A Cup of Tea
by ms-word
Summary: last chap! Mikagami finds himself unable to pass an essay for lit class. Desperate to save his grade, he heeds his teacher’s advice and resorts to the classic English method of tea... and a friend.
1. chapter 1

Notes: Typical opening, but this REALLY is my first FoR fic, so please look kindly on me. Characters tend to be a tad OOC. Haven't really watched the whole series anyway.   
  
I just had this sudden burst of inspiration after 'eavesdropping' at a teenage couple drinking, of all things, TEA at Starbucks. Now I haven't come across anything that odd in many years. They're about 15 or 16 or something. But really, TEA?! What happened to the Frapuccino??? Anyway, I patterned the 'tea talk' after the bits and pieces I heard from their conversation. I hope they didn't mind! Eep!  
  
I'm not sure about this, but it does hint slightly on ToFuu. I don't know… Guess it's up to the readers to judge.  
  
Disclaimer: I'm only using FoR and its characters for the fun of it! It doesn't belong to me.  
  
A Cup of Tea  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Man is a proud being.   
  
iPerhaps the proudest, most conceited animal there is.  
  
With his entire constant craving for change- political change, environmental transition, fashion trends, cellphone models, digital junk, pop icons- all provide man with newer grounds to bloat his perpetually expanding ego. A sad truth? A felicitous lie? It varies still, for man, along with his profound knowledge of what-nots and what-is for the mere purpose of again feeding his famished individuality, holds in himself his own belief and intent to why he and his fellow brethren act like the savage animals they are. /i  
  
'What ARE you trying to prove here Mikagami? That you can cram an essay that holds half of your class standing during lunch period?'  
  
An hour has passed and Tokiya Mikagami, in all his glorious comeliness and ennui, sat at what could definitely be called as not the most comfortable nook in the library. He was trying to get a move on with his essay for literature, which is conveniently due in the next class. It was a futile cause, as more or less half the female population of the school, if not all, have stationed themselves all throughout the library, much to the delight of the old lady librarian, who wouldn't know a thing about what really was going on since she was too in to her crochet centerpiece.  
  
Having had enough of being treated as a rare, century-old artifact in a museum, Mikagami gathered his things and quickly made his way out of the library.  
  
Yes, man truly is a proud being. He was trying to prove that. And he did prove it enough when he walked out on the mere thought of him being stared at like one does a mummified camel in a zoo. There's always more than meets the eye, and he felt completely repulsed by the idea that those girls only see through his pristine looks.   
  
~~~  
  
iPride is a confusing matter. Wholly intangible but very much perceivable, just as time is deemed to be seemingly eternal yet surely ephemeral. It forms a beautiful and powerful irony, capable of paving the way to one's custom built Canaan as well as paying for his one-way trip to perdition. /i  
  
He now found himself inside the classroom still struggling with his essay, which was highly unusual for someone reputed to be perfect as him. Lunch was to end in 15 minutes and he decided to find solace and, if luck would have it, inspiration, in the empty classroom. Sadly, luck wouldn't have it in any other way.   
  
And so the ever-efficient Tokiya Mikagami admitted to himself defeat. He was stuck in a pinch. The dreaded writer's block has come to haunt him. At such a bad time, even. The present reality that he woke up to has taken a drastic turn.   
  
This, he knew, was his pride paying for that one-way trip to perdition.  
  
~~~  
  
"You seem to have an interesting start, Mikagami-kun," his teacher commented after she scanned the paper which evidently was the beginning of Tokiya Mikagami's essay. "And where is the continuation?"  
  
"There is no continuation."  
  
If Ms. Takuno was surprised, if not shocked, that her star student couldn't comply with the requirements, she certainly didn't show it. Instead, a fine eyebrow was raised in an unspoken question. Then she smiled and handed the paper back to him. "We all have our days Mikagami-kun."  
  
He looked at the unfinished composition with contempt, as if to touch it would mark the beginning of another hour of sinuous torture around the world of the theoretical yet true.  
  
"Continue it, Mikagami-kun. I'm giving you until Monday next week."  
  
The paper lay on the desk, seemingly innocent and harmless. He knew otherwise.  
  
"You've tackled an interesting topic," Ms. Takuno went on. "It's natural for someone to get a headache trying to find the right words for something as obscure as man's nature, particularly his pride. Usually, tea would help."  
  
Mikagami looked at her with a questioning look in his eyes.  
  
"Yes, tea… And a friend. Invite someone over, have tea, and talk. Not only about pride, but about anything that comes into play. You will learn a lot, a hopefully, you'll get enough ideas for your composition.  
  
He nodded and placed the paper in his satchel.   
  
'Tea. And a friend.'  
  
A friend.   
  
Never did any phrase sound so foreign to him. Right now, he was willing to do anything. Even have tea… With a friend.  
  
A friend.  
  
What friend? 


	2. chapter 2

This is a very short chapter. Hope it suffices though. And to those wondering, the thingie on pride is very much a product of my head. Probably an effect of being with too many proud people. ^~^;;  
  
Pls R&R!  
  
Disclaimer: I'm only using FoR and its characters for the fun of it! It doesn't belong to me.  
  
A Cup of Tea  
  
Chapter 2  
  
iEssentially, pride is with us from the very beginning, perchance integrated in our DNA at the very least. It is considered one of man's most typical natures, that cannot be altered or changed, even if one wills himself to do so.  
  
To most people, this nature is very much embraced by their lifestyle, although they themselves do not admit so. They insist that they are above human pride and all its glorious idiosyncrasies, which in most cases ends up with the person suffering from cases of misunderstanding, not only from other people, but from their own being as well.  
  
And to those who have accepted that irreplaceable fullness of mankind, they either live with it simply, or further engross themselves, fully accepting and continuously nurturing their respective egos./i  
  
'I really need that tea… And that friend.'  
  
School has now ended and Mikagami sat in the far corner of a local food shack, seemingly trying to get his essay back into shape. But his real purpose lies a few feet away from him.  
  
Team Hokage has just entered the deli and was now enjoying their usual afternoon snack. It was a typical sight. Not much to see with a typical group of teenagers in a typical Friday afternoon. And in all its typicality, Mikagami found himself growing more and more abraded by they way the group seemed so free and easy, as if they had no worries about schoolwork and cramming. He half-wondered if he had offended the powers-that-be that he should be suffering like this and they, of all people, have nothing to fret about in this time where teachers suddenly become the sadists that they really are.  
  
The other half of his mind pondered on which among the group would more or less prove worthy enough, or at least carried enough functioning brain cells, to actually have tea with him.  
  
Undoubtedly, his first choice- his ONLY choice- was Yanagi: a woman of poise, grace and charm. Everything about her was perfect, at least to his scrupulous eyes. She did well with her academics, which pretty much confirms the operative status of her brain and she retained good moral character despite her frequent association with the rowdy bunch of monkeys.  
  
Still, there are certain matters that may restrain his intentions, the most obvious of all is the sea monkey currently wolfing down his ice cream sundae like the uncultured primate he is. Recca is not the most sensible of all people, especially when it comes his princess. One could compare him to a mother hen, to say the least. Mikagami could already see the ninja summoning all of his eight dragons to skewer him once he finds out that he has asked his dearest, most beloved Hime on a date. Of course, he'll reiterate again for the monkey to realize that it isn't a date, it was just tea. But the monkey would hear none of it and won't continue to attack anyway. And he, of course, would have to fend for himself.  
  
Ah, maybe he's had too many milk shakes. His mind is already running amok with the tiny images of him and Recca fighting over the right of Yanagi to have tea. In any case, there will be no stopping Tokiya Mikagami. He's taken too much sugar. He's pissed. He's about to fail lit. And he WILL have tea with a friend tomorrow afternoon no matter what.  
  
TBC 


	3. chapter 3

So this is the 3rd chapter. Definitely longer than the previous one as promised. I guess it's a good thing that I actually have the drive to write a fic like this. I felt weird while writing this chapter down. I think I'm not good handling strong emotions... In any case, things start to shape up here. Enjoy! And please review!  
  
Disclaimer: I'm only using FoR and its characters for the fun of it! It doesn't belong to me.  
  
A Cup of Tea  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Dusk was about to befall the busy city of Tokyo, and Mikagami, needless to say, was still nowhere with this essay. But he was making progress, in the form of tailing Fuuko and Yanagi as they made their way back to their respective homes.   
  
He felt stupid doing so, resorting to an act mostly committed by stalkers and perverts. He could've just walked up to them back at the deli, greeted them all for civility's sake, and promptly invite Yanagi for tea. But that would mean risking the lives of the other people in the shop as he was sure Recca would've heard it as an invite for Yanagi to marry him.  
  
So here he was, walking about a few feet away from the two girls. He would wait until Fuuko would reach her residence. And then he could come up to Yanagi, offer to walk the girl home, make small talk, and subtly interpolate his invitation for tea. And Yanagi, the sweet girl she is, would eventually say yes since the girl practically says no only in her dreams. They will have a nice Saturday afternoon together at his backyard drinking tea and munching on scones and salted biscuits while they talk (or rather she talks, and he listens while covertly jotting down notes) about the what-nots and what-is of life and beyond. After that they will-  
  
"Yo! Mi-chan!"  
  
Apparently, Mikagami was lost in his chain of thought that he totally forgot the presence of the Fuujin-wielder, who was now waving at him with a smirk on her face.  
  
'Way to let your guard down Mikagami,' he scolded himself.  
  
Without anywhere else to run to, he made his way to the girls and muttered a quick "good evening". Yanagi politely returned his greeting while Fuuko still carried that grin on her face. Then they all started to walk in comparable silence. Tokiya still had his plan ready for execution. He just had to wait until Fuuko leaves at then go from there.  
  
"So Mi-chan," Fuuko started. He immediately had the gut feel that things weren't going as he planned. "Why were you following us?"  
  
He didn't give but a glance to her and continued his brisk pace. "What makes you think that?"  
  
"Doohhhh!! I'm not stupid. You live all the way back there, a little north of the train station!" She, flailing her arms and pointing at the other direction, exclaimed.  
  
He mentally cursed Fuuko's keen sense of direction. "I'm not following you. I wanted to take the long way home."  
  
This time Yanagi joined in the exchange, although in a way Mikagami would never have expected. "Well, this is my stop. Thank you for the company, Fuuko-chan, Mikagami-sempai."  
  
'Bloody hell.' His plan seemed to overlook the fact that Yanagi's house was nearer than Fuuko's.  
  
"See ya on Monday!" Fuuko cheerfully bade.  
  
A thousand expletives raced through Mikagami's head as the plan he reviewed in his mind was kicked out of the picture. How absolutely stupid of him to just assume that everything would go his way. Well no matter, he HAD to invite Yanagi right now just to assure himself that everything would go with his plan afterwards. Fuuko would definitely prattle, but that was at the least of his concerns.  
  
"Yanagi-san!" he called out.   
  
Yanagi, a surprised expression on her face, stopped on her heels and turned around. "Yes, Mikagami-sempai?"  
  
Fuuko as well turned to Mikagami, eagerly waiting what was to transpire between the two.  
  
"It would do me great honor, Yanagi-san," he began "If you would grace me with your presence for tea tomorrow afternoon."  
  
The words came too quickly from his mouth. It was better to get it over with, but he had no intention to make his invitation sound like a date. But it really looked like it did, judging from the blushing face of Yanagi and Fuuko's wide, unblinking eyes.   
  
"Oh! Well, thank you for the invite, sempai but you see… I have a previous engagement with Recca-kun." Yanagi blushed even more and lowered her head.  
  
Naturally, Tokiya was disappointed. Again, his assumptions had led to another pinch. "That's understandable, Yanagi-san. Good night."  
  
Yanagi quickly bowed and went inside her house.  
  
As for him, he was back at square one.   
  
Tea… and a friend?  
  
What friend?  
  
Before he could fully engage in a mind game as to which person with the required functioning brain cells and good moral character would fit the shoes of his tea partner, Fuuko promptly marched up to him and directly pointed a finger at his chest.  
  
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING?!?!" she demanded.  
  
He was indeed taken aback by the girl's sudden upheaval. Although he found it characteristic of Fuuko to just suddenly flare up and create a ruckus, this was certainly uncalled for. "What are you yelling about, monkey?"  
  
Ignoring the detested nickname, she poked her finger in his chest, all the while clenching and unclenching her other fist as if ready to punch him any moment. "How could you ask Yanagi out knowing fully well that she's happy with Recca?!"  
  
And THIS was the reason he didn't come up to them earlier. At least one of his assumptions was true. Fuuko thought of it as a date, whereas Recca would think of it as a marriage proposal. "I wasn't asking for a date. I was inviting her to tea," he explained in a voice obviously showing his enormous self-restraint. And frankly, he didn't see reason why he should explain this to the monkey.  
  
"Ohh, suuuure… You're only inviting her to tea. Drugged tea!! And then Yanagi'll fall oh-so-helpless in your arms and you'd catch her and you'd put her to bed then take of her clothes…"  
  
Now Tokiya Mikagami has had enough of this. His patience can only go so far, and Fuuko Kirisawa, the daring monkey that she is, has certainly crossed the restricted area. How ironic, that he was writing an essay on pride and right now it is the same thing that's making him want to skewer the girl in front of him right now.   
  
He was about to reach for his ensui and challenge Fuuko to fight, right then and there, just to settle this stupid argument (heck, he wouldn't even call it an argument), when Fuuko abruptly stopped and flashed him a silly grin.  
  
"Geez Mi-chan, you're always uptight! I was just kidding!" The poking finger was retrieved and was quickly replaced by a hearty slap at his back.   
  
This was so typically Fuuko Kirisawa.  
  
"What?" the girl asked defiantly. "You don't really think I'd hate you for asking Yanagi for a date? Yeah, so she and Recca are dating, but it's always good for a girl to have many options, you know."  
  
Mikagami felt his patience wearing off more. "I've had enough of your tricks Kirisawa. And I am NOT asking Yanagi out on a date."  
  
"Sure, sure, you're INVITING her to TEA… Well, men have their own ways of wooing women."  
  
He rolled his eyes and she, amused with his rare show of emotion, laughed. Although slightly exasperated by the younger teen's mastery of making fun of people, as the gentleman he is, Mikagami silently accompanied Fuuko on her way back home. Relishing in this moment of serenity, he decided to go back to his previous problem, about his essay and that friend.   
  
Until now he found it startling that he could not pass a requirement on time. These past days he has been feeling a little out of it, as if he were not part of this world anymore and he was merely watching everything go by through a looking glass. Perhaps it had something to do with the UBS being over. The end of the tournament-or more specifically the end of his match with Kai--- marked the end of the road of the path he had decided to travel.  
  
Where was he to go to now?  
  
And with all the mind game he's been going through because of that, he wondered why he had to write an essay on, of all things, pride.  
  
"What're you thinking about, Mi-chan?" Fuuko suddenly queried.  
  
"I'm not thinking about anything," he lied. Having to explain things to someone like her would add to his present headache. Tokiya didn't miss the frown that crossed Fuuko's features when he said that, but he didn't want to point that out.  
  
"I don't know what you take me for, Mikagami," she said. "But I'm not stupid."  
  
"I didn't say anything," he replied. And then hesitated, as a peculiar thought came to him.  
  
"Now what are you thinking about?" she queried.  
  
He didn't answer.   
  
And Fuuko didn't like it one bit.  
  
She stopped in her tracks and grabbed his arm to prevent him from walking any farther. Much like her playful castigation before, she now stood before him, this time with real anger mirrored in her eyes.  
  
He knew what was coming. She'd fire up again and start yelling like the uncivilized primate she is, demanding him to tell her what was going on, and since there is no way he's going to confide to her, of all people, what he was thinking, she'd use her Fuujin to threaten him. And if that won't work, she'd challenge him to a fight.  
  
But what was this…? Fuuko still held her gaze, but she stepped back and released his arm from her grip.  
  
"You're so full of your self, you know."  
  
"Kirisawa…"  
  
"Look, listen to me okay. People always think that those who don't talk much, people like you, are the best listeners. But I don't think you do much listening at all," she paused, as if waiting for any violent reaction from the ensui-wielder, but didn't get any, so she continued. "What makes you think that you're better than any of us anyway? Sure, you've got the looks, the brains, the skills, the money… But so what? Those things don't set the standards here."  
  
Fuuko looked away from his piercing look and continued in a lower voice. "That's what's wrong with people these days. They think that when you have it all, you have it ALL. But you don't…" she laid her gaze upon him. "You may be proud of all that you have, but in truth, you don't have anything to be proud of!"  
  
Mikagami found himself lost in Kirisawa's words… For many reasons. But the most striking of them all was that what she said actually made sense to him, although he hasn't fully understood everything yet. He had nothing to be proud of. That was exactly what he was feeling. After walking down the path of revenge, at the end, he didn't feel accomplished at all…  
  
It was a funny thing too, as he didn't think Fuuko also understood what her words meant… Or did she?  
  
There was only one way to find out.  
  
"Would you like to join me for tea tomorrow afternoon?"  
  
TBC 


	4. chapter 4

Here's chapter 4. Another shortie. ^u^  
  
Disclaimer: I'm only using FoR and its characters for the fun of it! It doesn't belong to me.  
  
A Cup of Tea  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Fuuko blinked. And then blinked again.  
  
Did she hear right? Did Tokiya Mikagami ask her out on a date? Immediately after she verbally bashed him, saying that he had nothing to be proud of?  
  
Oh wait, it wasn't a date. It was tea.  
  
But still…  
  
"What?"  
  
"I just invited you for tea."  
  
She blushed. And he noticed this immediately.  
  
"I'm not asking you out on a date Kirisawa. It's just tea… And not drugged tea, mind you," he, slightly fearing the thoughts going on in the girl's head, added.  
  
"Uh, okay sure. Why not?" she nodded, and then grinned. "It's free food anyway!"  
  
Again, a typical Fuuko Kirisawa answer.  
  
They resumed walking towards Fuuko's residence in silence. Tokiya was in the process of counter-checking his actions in his mind, which he did whenever he felt unsure of something he just did. He invited Fuuko Kirisawa over. For tea. To help him. With his essay.   
  
How bizarre can that get?  
  
But then, she seemed to have some sort of wisdom with her. She doesn't get the best marks at school, but grades aren't the only verification of functioning brain cells. She had a different kind of smart. And although she isn't exactly what one would call of good moral character, she still has self-control. At least he'd like to think so.   
  
He silently prayed he wasn't making a mistake.  
  
"This is my stop," Fuuko announced after a few minutes. Tokiya stopped as well. "Um, so see you tomorrow?"  
  
"Un."  
  
"What time?"  
  
"4 pm sharp," he said, emphasizing on the 'sharp'. "I'll lock you out if you're late."  
  
Fuuko laughed haughtily. "Ha! Fuuko Kirisawa is never late for a date!" She blushed after realizing her statement and its horrible rhyme. "Er, tea, I mean… Hey, where's your house again?"  
  
"All the way back there, a little north of the train station," he answered dryly.  
  
"Very funny. Okay, so, I gotta go now… Thanks for walking me home!" She turned around and ran inside the house.  
  
Mikagami was left standing outside.  
  
He really did hope he made the right decision.  
  
~~~  
  
Saturday mornings always promised struggling high school students of liberation from the toil of schoolwork. It was a time to get rid of one's tensions, relax, unwind and just chill and hang out with the gang.  
  
But for Tokiya Mikagami, the above statement couldn't apply because 1)He doesn't technically 'hang out' with his 'gang' and 2)He had his 'tea party' to worry about.  
  
That was yet another thing he found odd. Why on earth was he worrying about his afternoon rendezvous? It was only Fuuko, for crying out loud! The girl probably didn't even drink tea. He didn't need to press his shirt or use his fancy perfume. Heck, he can just buy some pastries in the local bakeshop to accompany the tea.  
  
So if he shouldn't worry, much less care about Fuuko coming over, why did he iron his shirt and use his fancy perfume, and why, of all things imaginable, is he baking a cake right now?  
  
He pulled over a chair and re-read his draft. He knew very well that the words he has previously written were true. He just didn't know what to make of it.   
  
And hopefully, she would know what to make of it.  
  
But that's just wishful thinking. What would a monkey like her know?  
  
A soft 'ting' sounded in the kitchen. He went in and checked the oven. The cake was ready. He had on one of his best shirts and he carried his favorite scent. There was still the matter about the tea, since he seriously doubts that Fuuko even drinks tea aside from their traditional one. Well she'd have to make do with this, since he is certainly not going to worry about back-up beverages as well.  
  
It was 4 p.m. now. He was ready. Ready to get his over with so he could get a move on with his life.   
  
But the familiar jovial voice of Fuuko never came.  
  
TBC 


	5. chapter 5

Sorry 'bout the cliffhangers, but I really like doing that! ^u^v And thanks to those who reviewed!! On short chapter thingie, well, I'll try to make it longer... But I like making things short and sweet!   
  
Disclaimer: I'm only using FoR and its characters for the fun of it! It doesn't belong to me.  
  
A Cup of Tea  
  
Chapter 5  
  
It was 4 p.m. now. He was ready. Ready to get his over with so he could get a move on with his life.   
  
But the familiar jovial voice of Fuuko never came.  
  
…until an hour later.  
  
The doorbell rang. And rang again.   
  
Mikagami, knowing fully well who was at the door, pointedly ignored the ceaseless ringing and didn't move from his position on the couch.  
  
The ringing stopped… But was then replaced by loud banging on his door.  
  
"I told you 4 p.m. sharp!" he called out.  
  
"Something came up!!!" was the loud reply from outside.  
  
He didn't answer back.  
  
"Mi-chan let me in!!"  
  
Outside, Fuuko glared at the door and mentally cursed Mikagami for being such a tight-ass. Why did he have to be so uptight with the time anyway? It's not as if made him wait for an eternity. If anyone should be pissed of right now, it's supposed to be her! And with damn good reason too. She was the one who spent eternity dressing up for this special occasion, and now HE was complaining? She shiftily glanced around her and heaved a sigh of relief that nobody else was around the vicinity. If anyone saw her like this, she'd have no other choice than to resort to great bodily harm.  
  
"Mikagami, I want in NOW!!" she demanded.  
  
No answer.  
  
"MIKAGAAAAAAAMIIIIIIIIII!!!!!"  
  
Now that did it.  
  
Having no intention of having his cochlea shattered, Tokiya flung open the door and was faced by a red-faced Fuuko Kirisawa, gasping for air after her little yet loud repertoire.  
  
"It's about time you let me in!" she exclaimed and made her way inside without as much as a polite 'shitsurei shimasu'.   
  
But Mikagami was too much at a loss for words to notice her lack of civility. "Fuuko, you…"  
  
"What?"  
  
He pointed at her outfit. "Kimono?"  
  
And indeed, Fuuko Kirisawa was adorably kimonoed, complete with the slippers, fan and hair accessories.   
  
'I'm dressed for the occasion, you dolt!" She looked at his ensemble and frowned. "What are YOU wearing? Why on earth would you do a proper tea ceremony wearing THAT? Have you no respect for our culture?!"  
  
Tokiya looked down at his white polo shirt and slacks. Then he returned his gaze at her purple kimono decorated with cherry blossoms and pagodas. The difference in the dress code was obvious. Apparently, he forgot to mention to her the fact that this was not a traditional Japanese tea ceremony. Instead, they were to enjoy a warm cup of Earl Grey along with salted biscuits and cake.  
  
Fuuko didn't take his oversight too well.  
  
"WHAAAAAAT?!?! You mean I just wasted 2 hours of my life trying to get into this crap just to find out I'm not supposed to be in this thing at all?!"  
  
"It's not crap, Fuuko. Have you no respect for out culture?" he, trying to hold back what he thought could come out as laughter, chastised calmly.  
  
She was about to explode again, but decided it was a lost cause to do so, since she was stuck with her kimono for the rest of the day. She flopped down on his couch and looked at him dejectedly.  
  
"You have no idea how hard it is to move with this thing," she muttered. "I feel like sushi."  
  
"Is this the first time you've worn a kimono?"  
  
She shook her head. "No, but it was a really long time ago. I was four, I think." Then her face lighted up as an idea came to her. "Hey, do you have a spare change of clothes?"  
  
Mikagami nodded. "But I'm not lending."  
  
"What? Are you afraid you'd get monkey fleas?" Fuuko asked sarcastically.  
  
"I like you the way you are."  
  
Wide purple eyes locked with his, and it was then that he realized what he just said.   
  
"What I meant was you look okay, Kirisawa," he amended quickly. "You don't need to change."  
  
Fuuko stood up and cleared the front of her kimono. "Thanks for taking back the compliment," she said sarcastically.   
  
He led her outside towards the garden, where they were to have tea. "You're very much welcome."  
  
The wind-wielder sighed and followed Mikagami's retreating form, all the while marveling at the interior of his home. Although she has been to his house before, she and the others never got to explore much after a cold threat of bloody murder if they ever took a step out of the foyer. To actually be granted permission to go further in the iceman's abode was great pleasure to her. She has always wondered what kind of environment Tokiya Mikagami took solace in, and she was mildly surprised to find pricey-looking antiques adorning his living room. She really thought that Mikagami went for the modern furniture and embellishments like those swanky silver-toed chairs, lava lamps and funky chandeliers.  
  
"You've got quite a crib here, Mi-chan," she commented. "It's kinda drab for my tastes though. Bordering to scary even. Reminds me of the Beast's castle. Hehe! Not that you're the beast, Mi-chan… But it can use some… "   
  
Fuuko's voice trailed off as she stepped out into the garden.  
  
"Color…"  
  
Tokiya watched as she slowly took in the view. He was about to make another sardonic remark about her losing the ability to talk in front of nature, but the look of surprise combined with something akin to awe painted on her face stopped him from doing so.  
  
For the second time that day, she pushed him aside, though not as roughly as before, and explored the garden with utmost caution and delight.  
  
Despite his earlier vexation, Mikagami found himself smiling, although a small one, as the younger teen tried to see as much as she could through the proportions of her kimono.  
  
Fuuko turned to him in the middle of her exploration. "Did you grow all of these Mi-chan?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
Grinning, she went back to where he was seated in the freshly whitewashed veranda and took the seat across his. "I never expected that you, of all people, could actually take care of such delicate flora," she admitted.  
  
"And why not?" he asked out of curiosity.  
  
"You never seem to show care for anyone or anything else except yourself, so I find it surprising that you could raise those," she, gesturing to the vast greenery, answered.  
  
It was yet another one of her direct observations, he noted. He only took up gardening since it was a requirement for his biology class years ago. He never realized he's end up making a hobby out of it. Truth be told, he, also, has wondered why he showed eager fondness for verdure, when he never bothered for taking responsibility over anything but himself.  
  
He silently wondered at Fuuko's ability to reason and draw immediate conclusions.  
  
Maybe he didn't make a misjudgment this time.  
  
He reached for his cup, and she followed suit.   
  
Reaching for the teapot, he leaned forward and asked, "Shall we begin?"  
  
She pushed her cup forward and smiled.  
  
TBC 


	6. chapter 6

Disclaimer: I'm only using FoR and its characters for the fun of it! It doesn't belong to me.  
  
A Cup of Tea  
  
Chapter 6  
  
Reaching for the teapot, he leaned forward and asked, "Shall we begin?"  
  
She pushed her cup forward and smiled….  
  
Tokiya, wondering if Fuuko even drank tea at all, cautiously poured the steaming drink into the cup she held. This mere action made him feel peculiar, in a way, since he never imagined himself doing something like that. He was pretty much aware that in some cultures, including theirs, the pouring of tea was a symbol of respect, honor and esteem for the person whom the tea is being poured to. He mentally scoffed at the idea. He respected Kirisawa, as his upbringing dictated him to do so. But honor and esteem her?  
  
He shrugged the crazed notion off. This was just tea. Nothing more. No intricate symbols braided within its boundaries, as much as he felt that he was about to gain something-or lose something-in this little tryst.  
  
"Do you drink tea?" he, noticing her slight discomfort, asked while pouring himself a cup as well.  
  
Fuuko looked at the dark liquid in her cup as if it were contaminated by some bacteria. She tentatively brought it up to her nose and sniffed it. "Er, what kind of tea is this again?"  
  
"Earl Grey. And it's not polluted," he, seemingly reading her mind, added.  
  
"Earl Grey, huh?" she muttered. "Talk about a weird name… Oh well, there's a first time for everything." She took a deep breath and gingerly took a sip from the teacup.  
  
Mikagami watched in amusement as Fuuko's face turned in various degrees and angles: her brows meeting together then shooting upwards, her nose crinkling at the husky smell, her cheeks turning redder by the moment, her lips drawn in a thin line, which soon parted as she stuck out her tongue in distaste.   
  
"I think it needs more sugar," she commented as she reached for the dainty sugar cubes with a tiny spoon. It was then that she noticed the chocolate cake resting at the side of the table on a silver platter in all its sinful glory. Grinning, she reached for the knife and flashed him an even bigger smile. "Do you mind?" she asked, although at the back of her mind, there's no stopping her from having a sample of that tantalizing cake regardless of what Mikagami says.  
  
He shook his head and Fuuko squealed in delight. He watched in silent amusement at the parody Fuuko was showing. Apparently, she was having a hard time cutting the cake as the folds of her kimono kept getting in the way. Trying to avoid having the icing on her sleeves, she pulled them up to her shoulders, but no avail.  
  
"Here, let me do that." Ultimately finding compassion for the voracious girl, he leaned forward as well and took the knife from her hand.  
  
It's a typical scene in any novel or movie of two run-of-the-mill persons, both seemingly not attracted to each other in the littlest way possible, to have their skins touch, be it a slight contact on the shoulders, one back unceremoniously bumping into the other's, or the most common scenario, like the one happening right now: the touch of two hands.   
  
But even if Fuuko Kirisawa and Tokiya Mikagami aren't the archetypal run-of-the-mill characters delineated in those popular happily-ever-after-stories, it doesn't rule them out from feeling the small tingling sensation that starts from the point of their contact, then carries throughout their bodies as goosebumps, and eventually resides in their hearts as the incessant feeling that keeps tugging at your soul.  
  
And pretty much every fervent devotee of these stories can expect both parties to suddenly jolt out of their shivers-down-the-spine trance and to suddenly retract the respective parts of their bodies which made contact.   
  
An experience like that would evidently lead to a lot of confusion, particularly with the issue on why no earth did they feel that, and what that incessant feeling that keeps tugging at the soul is.  
  
Of course, no one would raise those thoughts out loud, so they would eventually end up being plagued about it for the rest of the day. A good alternative to avoid that nagging voice at your head is to eat.  
  
And eat Fuuko did, evidently trying to push back what happened just mere moments ago to the back of her mind, thinking that if Mikagami would look at her as one of his 2-digit IQ fangirls if ever he found out how intensely she felt those jolts of electricity from the simple touch.  
  
Little did she know that Tokiya also felt the same impact, in the same, if not even a greater severity, than her.  
  
"Mm… Mi-chan, this is really good!" was what Mikagami made of the words Fuuko said through her stuffed mouth. "Where'd you buy?"  
  
He, applying the same discretion of eating to divert his attention from that 'thing' he felt, got a slice for himself as well and took a bite. The thick luscious flavor of the chocolate warmed the caverns of his mouth. It tasted perfect. Even he himself didn't know he could create such a gastronomical masterpiece.   
  
"I believe… that I baked the cake," he said in a solicitous manner, mindfully expecting the girl's reaction.  
  
Fuuko immediately stopped nibbling on her portion as she, dumbfounded, stared at him. "No, I'm not asking WHO made it, I'm was asking WHERE you bought this cake," she, very much doubting his answer, or if not, her hearing, repeated the question again.  
  
And again, she got: "I didn't buy the cake, Kirisawa. I made it."  
  
"THIS cake?!?!" she, now waving the piece stuck on her fork in front of his face, asked again.  
  
"Yes, that cake," he answered as calmly as possible.  
  
Her eyes visibly widened in surprise and looked at him inquisitively then returned her gaze back to the cake on her plate. "You're definitely a lot of things, Tokiya Mikagami," she mumbled.   
  
The seemingly inadvertent slip of her thought was something that caught him by surprise, but he pretended not to hear it anyway. Yes, he already knew before that he, Tokiya Mikagami was a lot of things. But somehow, he never seemed to believe it.  
  
Did she believe it?  
  
"It's such a shame, though," she went on. "That you've no on to share your food with. I'm guessing I'm the first person to critique your cuisine?"  
  
He nodded and continued to stir his tea.  
  
Then something dawned into her. If Yanagi didn't have a date with Recca today, she could be the first person to actually taste his cooking. She could be the first person to actually see his garden. She could was the first person to actually get inside his house.   
  
Yanagi could be the first person to actually see who Tokiya Mikagami really is.  
  
And she knew that Tokiya Mikagami didn't want just ANYONE to see all of this.  
  
He wanted Yanagi. But Yanagi can't come.  
  
So he settled for her.  
  
The idea of being just a subordinate choice didn't infuriate her, actually, although if given another situation with another person, she'd blow the guy's head off.   
  
She just wondered WHY. Why he was seemed to be so frantic in wanting to have tea with someone, to the point that he'd actually ask her. He could've just waited until next week and asked Yanagi again.  
  
So… "Why?"  
  
Tokiya looked up from his cup of tea. "Excuse me?"  
  
"Why did you invite me for tea?"  
  
"Keep in mind, Kirisawa, that I wanted to invite Yanagi-san in the first place," he began.  
  
"Yeah, but why are you such in a hurry to have someone over for tea?" she interrupted him. "Couldn't you just re-invite her or something for next week?"  
  
He sighed. It seemed that he really has underestimated her pragmatic capabilities. Now it appeared that he had to steer away from his original plan of having her talk while he discreetly records her words with the tape recorder that was taped under the table, without Fuuko ever knowing about the kind of scholastic predicament he got himself in.   
  
And tell her about the scholastic predicament he did.  
  
And for the second time that day, Fuuko found herself doubting her sense of hearing.  
  
"WHAT?!"  
  
"I am NOT repeating myself Kirisawa."  
  
"No but… really? As in, seriously? You weren't able to pass a requirement for school?! YOU?! The genius Tokiya Mikagami?? Unable to write an essay??? About pride?? And your teacher wanted you to have tea with someone? To get inspiration?!?!"  
  
He glared at her. "I know the details, Kirisawa, so there is no need to repeat everything, much less inform the whole neighborhood about it."  
  
Fuuko tried to calm down from her initiate reaction of incredulity and mumbled a quick apology. "You wanted Yanagi-chan to help you, but she had a date with Recca… So you invited me?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
A bewildered look flashed on her face. 'Wait, I'm confused…" she took another bite of the cake and then continued. "I know you think I'm not up to par with you, or Yanagi for that matter. But I'm not saying it's true, you idiot, but… Why did you invite me, aside from the fact that Yanagi couldn't come?"  
  
"One, I'm running out of time. Two, you were the only one with a more or less stable intellect compared to the rest of those monkeys. And three…" he trailed off, wondering if he should continue with the last reason.  
  
"Three?" she prompted.  
  
"Three…" he took another sip before continuing and then faced her squarely. "Believe it or not, Fuuko Kirisawa, I don't think you're as stupid as you assume I think of you to be."  
  
Fuuko slowed down on her food and returned his serious look. "Oh…" Then her face broke into a huge grin. "It took you all that time to notice, huh? Maybe you're not as smart as I thought!" She laughed airily.  
  
It seemed right then that the final slivers of ice have been melted. Though not sufficient to fully destroy all barriers, it was more than enough to let some light in.  
  
They both knew that for a fact, but the reaction they received a little while ago was still persistent, thus leaving them with the company of silence, along with the dire encouragement of uncertainty.  
  
And the tension of the moment: the unbroken chant of her conscience, the gradual deliquesce of the custodial milieu and the unnerving stillness coming from them both, was all it took to make the illustrious spirit of Fuuko Kirisawa to deteriorate.  
  
Though her constricting kimono did add more fuel to the fire.  
  
She wondered if he felt the same.  
  
But Tokiya Mikagami, who was also aware of the change in the aura, did not find it disarming at all. Instead, he found himself growing more curious at this new sensation. He didn't know if it was the tea, or the cake, or probably even the girl sitting before him, but he felt more or less liberated, in a way, from the usual palisade of his life.  
  
He wanted to make it last.  
  
But the tea he has prepared was close to null. And all that was left of the cake was crumbs.  
  
He looked at Fuuko and found her looking at him as well with a look somehow akin to petrifaction.  
  
"Hey, Mi-chan, can we start with your essay already?" the toil of this uneasy feeling was definitely getting to her.  
  
"Are you sure you can think without the cake and tea?" he, astonishing his guest, and even himself, chided playfully, after gesturing to the empty teapot and platter.  
  
"Of course I can!" she, crossing her arms in mock prejudice, exclaimed.  
  
"I'm sure you do," he conceded with a tiny smile. "But in any case, it's getting dark already. Why don't you stay over for dinner. I might get to extort more answers if I keep on feeding you."   
  
She turned to him with wide eyes. "Mi-chan, that sounded like a joke!" But it was a mere cover-up for her unfeigned stupefaction that Tokiya Mikagami has actually invited her to stay for dinner. It wasn't tea anymore. It was tea AND dinner.  
  
"I'm not joking," he said flatly.  
  
"Well it sounded like a joke," she defended. "But heck, I ride along with jokes… So I guess I'll stay."  
  
While cleaning up the table where they had tea, he silently wondered if the English did invite their guests for tea for dinner. Not that he cared if he broke traditional English rules. He wasn't English anyway, but somehow, he felt that he wasn't only doing this for the sake of his essay.  
  
And in a rare moment back then, he felt that Fuuko wasn't doing it for the free food, as well.  
  
So what ARE they doing?  
  
But to fit the present situation, he amended, perhaps it was better change his question.  
  
What are they going to do?  
  
TBC 


	7. chapter 7

Disclaimer: I'm only using FoR and its characters for the fun of it! It doesn't belong to me.  
  
A Cup of Tea  
  
Chapter 7  
  
Fuuko followed closely behind while Tokiya led the way to his kitchen. She has slightly grown accustomed to his house, particularly with his antiquated, Victorian slash gothic style, but there were still some pieces of décor that got her on the goosebumps level. As she, still lost in her own thoughts, turned around the blind corner, she came face to face with an old ball-metal statue of a cherubim, whose oddly formed face-with the bulging cheeks and puffy eyes- alarmed her.  
  
Clearly startled by bronze figure, she quickened her pace and promised herself not to doze off while walking. Mikagami's house was pretty huge, and if she didn't watch her surroundings carefully, she might get lost. Or worse, she might run into a medieval armors she'd seen in those movies that suddenly come to life when one's alone.  
  
So now she walked directly behind her host for the night, not even a foot away from him, much to Mikagami's vexation. He knew about Fuuko's little encounter with one of his many bronze sculptures. He distinctly heard that loud yelp of surprise, and the quick footsteps that followed afterwards. What he didn't expect was for the girl to chivy right behind him, to the point that he could actually feel her quick, warm breathing just below the nape of his back.  
  
Now that decidedly got him on his goosebumps level.  
  
"Ever thought of renting your house for a horror flick, Mi-chan?" she piped up, probably in order to lighten up the dark mood being set off by the corridor.  
  
"The thought never crossed me, but I will consider," he mused. "Who's going to star, by the way, you?" He saw her grinning through the corner of his eyes.  
  
"I just had an idea. You can be like, Mr. Scrooge, and me, Recca and Domon can do the ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future," she laughed, seeing the image of a wrinkly old Tokiya Mikagami as Mr. Scrooge settled on a tall velvet chair by the fireplace smoking tobacco. Though the wrinkly an old part was rather hard for her to imagine, she knew very well that he didn't have to act much to get into the part.  
  
Then they reached his kitchen, and much to Fuuko's amazement, it wasn't as dreary and imposing as the other parts of his house. Probably because it overlooked the garden and the draperies were set high to let what light was left outside in. Everything seemed to be in order, and Fuuko was definitely amazed at Mikagami's ability to keep his kitchen immaculate after baking such a palatable masterpiece. Whenever she tried to bake, the kitchen was always bound to look like a disaster area, and her gourmet creations weren't exactly what one would call delectable either.  
  
"This… This is you kitchen, Mi-chan?"  
  
"You certainly don't think it's the bedroom, do you?" he derided.  
  
Fuuko crossed her arms and retorted. "Well I certainly didn't think you'd take enough time to actually pick up flowers for this part of your house if you didn't spend most of your time in here." She fingered the petals of the daisies that lead in the glass vase on the middle of the table.  
  
"What makes you say that?" he asked while fishing through the cupboards.  
  
"You don't have flowers anywhere else in this place save for the garden and here," she pointed out. "So do you really hang out in the kitchen more often?"  
  
He, feeling slightly vulnerable that Fuuko can actually tell a lot about him just by his decorating purposes, turned back to give her this pointed look and then reluctantly nodded.  
  
"I'm a kitchen girl myself", she admitted. "But I'm not really good. I just like hanging out 'coz of the food. And the fridge!" And then a crazy thought went to her head. "Hey, Mi-chan, mind if I check out your fridge? You know, the saying you are what you eat…"  
  
But Fuuko didn't wait any longer for his answer as she headed straight for his refrigerator. He, on the other hand, was startled enough by the announcement she gave. Fuuko Kirisawa was about to raid his fridge. Who knows what kind of destruction she'll cause? That and he did believe to some extent the traditional saying of comestibles' effect on ones' personality, or whichever way that goes. He didn't intend for her to suddenly divulge to the whole campus every little thing to be found in his abode. He didn't even intend for her to realize so many things about him in such a short span of time.  
  
And he didn't even think she realizes how much it alarms him to have someone actually see, even in the vaguest sense, what he really is like.  
  
He had a reputation to hold on to. He didn't want her imposing on it. He had his pride, still.  
  
But she said he had nothing to be proud of.  
  
"Hm, eggs, ham, fruits…"  
  
If he had nothing to be proud of, does he still have his pride?  
  
"Ohh… chocolates!!"  
  
He needed to know.  
  
"Hey, Mi-chan," Fuuko's head popped out from the fridge's door. "You're human after all!"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
Fuuko stood up and retrieved three 6-packs of beer and placed them on the table. "I'm not asking how you smuggled these from the store, but heck, it's gonna be nice to see you drunk."  
  
He glared at her and defiantly replied "I do NOT get drunk."  
  
"Uh huh, sure…" she sat down on the chair and rested her chin on her arms. "So what's for dinner?"  
  
Tokiya headed for the freezer and pulled out a box of frozen lasagna. "This is dinner."  
  
She stared at him incredulously. "You're kidding… You can't let your guest eat microwave lasagna!!!"  
  
'I can and I will," he stated, and probably as an afterthought, added "You've had enough proof of my culinary masteries through that cake."  
  
The girl stuck her tongue out at him and he rolled his eyes. The sound of the microwave whirring was the only thing to be heard inside the fairly large kitchen. Tokiya leaned on the counter, wondering if right now would be the best time to ask her about what she said last night. He glanced at her, and saw her looking straight at him, as if prodding him with her dawn-tinted orbs to take the first step for once.  
  
What did she now about him anyway? They haven't even known each other for a year!  
  
But among all of them in Hokage, she seemed to be the only one who can actually feel comfortable around him. Just like right now… He wondered what would have happened if he had tea with Yanagi instead. She would definitely be a more pleasant site than the loud boisterous girl, but then again, he didn't think Yanagi would be as easeful and open as Fuuko is.   
  
And the idle nonchalance of Fuuko Kirisawa was something he felt that won him over again.  
  
He moved his head away and his gaze rested on the beer… Perhaps it was better if he asked right now. It would be rather hard to make a drunk Fuuko talk, much less talk about something as complicated as pride. Not that he was going to get her drunk. That was the last thing he wanted….  
  
"Fuuko."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
It was time to get this over with...  
  
The microwave beeped.  
  
Or maybe not.  
  
"Dinner's ready," he said in a resigned voice.  
  
Fuuko let out a small sigh. So much for that small step. "Okay."  
  
TBC  
  
A/N: er, i'm kinda losing my touch here. experiencing the dreaded writer's block and all. have no idea what to do next... }:( anyway, will try my best to come up with a better chap next time... 


	8. chapter 8

Disclaimer: I'm only using FoR and its characters for the fun of it! It doesn't belong to me.  
  
A Cup of Tea  
  
Chapter 8  
  
Tokiya ignored the slight disappointment coming from the interruption. Then again, maybe it was better if he got her to talk while eating. She might feel more comfortable then.  
  
"So do you want to move in the dining room?"  
  
Fuuko looked up to see his somewhat strained features, and then her gaze trailed down to the steaming plate of lasagna held by his hands covered with… mitts… pink-flowery-oven mitts. And with frilly apron to match.  
  
She opened her mouth to answer something intelligible, but nothing came out. But who could blame her? She was seeing Tokiya Mikagami in a PINK FRILLY APRON with PINK FLOWER OVEN MITTS holding a pan of lasagna. And add that to the fact that he just BAKED A CHOCOLATE CAKE a few hours back. A chocolate cake that happened to be very, very good…  
  
Was she really seeing this?  
  
"Fuuko, if you don't mind, I'd like to take these things off now, as much as you seem to be enjoying staring at them," he said in a dry manner, obviously motioning to his choice in kitchen apparel.  
  
"Oh, um," she snapped out of her trance. "The kitchen's just fine, Mi-chan."  
  
Quite frankly, the only place inside his house that made her feel comfortable was his kitchen. She remembered what the dining room was like when she passed by it, and it was every inch the austere and imposing hall that it was, with the long mahogany table and the chandelier towering above. The kitchen, unlike the other parts of the house, seemed more like a home to her. She silently wondered if Tokiya really did decorate this place. And if so, why did he leave the kitchen so different from the others?  
  
He placed the lasagna on the table. "Very well then." He took off the ludicrous garments and took the seat across her. "Now can we get down to business?"  
  
Fuuko nodded. "But before we begin," she took two cans of beer, tossed one to him and pulled the tab on her own. "A toast!"  
  
Mikagami looked down at the can before opening it as well. "For what?"  
  
"Er, I don't know…" she scratched the back of her neck. "But we'll think of something later. Let's just toast, okay?"  
  
He shrugged and let both their cans of beer come to contact with a resounding clang. Fuuko grinned and took a swig from her can afterwards. He watched in amazement as the girl continuously gulped the alcohol without even taking a breath. Surely his tea wasn't that vile tasting that she needed immediate remedy this badly?  
  
Halfway through the can, Fuuko pulled up from for breath and wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her kimono. The sight of it was pretty farcical, he had to admit.  
  
"Now we can get down to business!" she declared.  
  
She can't be drunk with half a can of beer, right?  
  
An even larger smile graced Fuuko's features as she took a bite from the lasagna. "Mmm, good!"  
  
He visibly disregarded the loud, nettling sounds coming from the obviously famished girl. And he thought she'd be full after wiping out the whole cake… Apparently, to be a good host before Fuuko Kirisawa means to allot quite an amount of money to spend on her food. What if the girl with the bottomless pit isn't satisfied with the lasagna only? There is still quite a possibility of her asking for dessert.   
  
A very big possibility.  
  
All profound admiration of her cunning aside, Fuuko Kirisawa isn't exactly a dream guest.  
  
"So can I read your essay?" she asked after wolfing down her part, and still reaching over for seconds.  
  
The paper was handed to the girl. While balancing the essay, the can of beer and the fork in her hands, part of the composition somehow ended up on the plate of lasagna, with the sauce staining a good part of it.  
  
"Ack!" she yelped, flailing the soiled piece of paper around then trying to take away the mottle in vain.  
  
Tokiya was clearly not amused with her little satire and stood up to get his work back. And as he did so, for the second time that day, their hands came in to touch, and the unbidden feelings that they've forcibly shoved behind at the back of their heads came sweeping over them once again.  
  
Deafening silence reigned. Both again standing still, taking feel of what came upon them. But Fuuko didn't want to take part in it. Was it fear? Or denial? She didn't want to know. She jerked her hand back along with his essay, and feigned a smile.  
  
"Silly Mi-chan, it's still a draft right? No need to fret over it."  
  
He was about to say that she was the one who started panicking first, but decided otherwise in order not to spark up any other unwanted emotions. He sat down and chose to continue with his dinner while Fuuko went through his work.  
  
The purple-haired girl inwardly smiled as she read his words. It was exactly how she expected it: sage and recondite words that are meant to strike the heart and soul, as well as ignite a force to keep one contemplating on the matter-a style that was very distinctly Tokiya Mikagami. And somehow, she felt a feeling of pride swell inside her, since aside from being the first person to actually make it this far in his immaculate abode, she is most probably the first person whom Mikagami is willingly sharing his thoughts on such of his ideas.   
  
Also, the thought of helping him with his work excited her, although it made her insecure a bit. Though that insecurity was subsided a bit when she remembered his reasons for inviting her, aside from Yanagi being unable to attend. And who knows… This may be the very chance she was hoping for, that Tokiya Mikagami will finally lighten and up in the least, and if fate would look kindly on her, open up to her and treat her as more than an acquaintance he is forced to relate to for civility's sake.  
  
Maybe he could tell himself over and over that he didn't care about what she thought of his essay, but in truth, he couldn't stop himself from asking for any of her insights. Of course, he wouldn't show it outright…   
  
"So?" he asked after a few minutes of silence.  
  
"This is so like you, Mi-chan," she commented.  
  
"I did write it," he said sardonically, stating the obvious.  
  
Fuuko glared at him. "Well, duh, I know. What I meant was it's written in a know-it-all kinda way. Very much like you."  
  
Know-it-all kinda way? Now he never really saw it like that.  
  
"Elaborate," he said, motioning for her to continue.  
  
"You started by describing pride and, uhm, how people react to it and stuff…" Fuuko began, all the while taking constant sips from the beer. "Mind you, though, I think your observations are right to a certain degree-"  
  
"So what's wrong with it?" he interrupted. Truth be told, Tokiya Mikagami didn't take criticism all too well. And Fuuko's seemingly unsure explication of his work wasn't exactly helping either.  
  
"Geez, Mi-chan, let me finish…" she answered back. "See, this is the problem of your essay, and your problem as well! You make it sound like you're above worthless human feelings. You look at human pride in such a detached point of view. Maybe that's why you can't continue this thing."  
  
"Is that why you said I have nothing to be proud of?" he blurted out, not being able to hold back his curiosity anymore. He wanted to know so badly. It was high time that he found out why.  
  
She looked up from her plate questioningly. "Huh?"  
  
"Last night… You said I had nothing to be proud of," he repeated, a feeling of something akin to dread forming somewhere in his chest.  
  
"Oh," she looked back down to her plate and thought about her words. It was definitely one of those things one said in those moments of dire animosity and then regretted afterwards. She knew deep in her heart that she didn't really mean it, that Mi-chan did have a lot of things to be proud of. Ah, she can't let her emotions carry her away like that every time… "I didn't mean that, Mi-chan. I'm sorry," she apologized. "I say a lot of stupid stuff when I get carried away."  
  
He was, needless to say, stunned at her apology. She didn't mean it? She didn't mean those words that made him invite her here, those words that have plagued his head and humanity as well?   
  
Those words that made him think she was different from them.  
  
She didn't understand.  
  
She never understood at all.  
  
TBC  
  
A/N: I think I'm taking this ficcie too far. I originally planned it to be just simple tea, and now look what Ive done. ^~^;; Anyway, upcoming conflict ahead. And to those who've been following this fic, you would've figured by now that I update every Tuesday (just before Smallville ^u^). But sadly, I won't be able to post next week since I've to prepare for our quarterly exams. Normally posting will resume on the 24th. (Now that just sounded like a tv channel unable to air). 


	9. chapter 9

Disclaimer: I'm only using FoR and its characters for the fun of it! It doesn't belong to me.  
  
Chapter 9  
  
Tokiya Mikagami was not disappointed. Disappointed would be such a light word for the umbrage he was feeling right now… He was pissed. He was furious. He was angry.  
  
Not at Fuuko Kirisawa, although he also had some reason to, but at himself.  
  
Because he has let his guard down again.  
  
He let her in his life, thinking that she understood.  
  
"You wouldn't have said that if you didn't mean it," he said in a low voice.  
  
Fuuko watched curiously as he seemingly ruminated over his half-finished plate of lasagna. His words sounded like he actually wanted to be berated and scorned, as if he wanted her to tell him that he really was an apathetic jerk with no feelings…   
  
As if he truly had nothing to be proud of in his life…  
  
"Mi-chan," Fuuko, fully knowing well the disturbing sensation that was to come, tentatively reached out her hand to enclose his. "I'm really sorry about what I said."  
  
He retrieved his hand back and glared at her, completely ignoring the fleetingness of the dying embers.  
  
"And I actually thought for a moment back there that you would understand."  
  
"But I do understand, Mi-chan, I just-"  
  
"You just what?" he seethed. "You just thought of this as an opportunity to check out my place, get free food and invade my life?"  
  
Her eyes darkened and she returned his glare with equal contempt. "Yeah, I wanted to invade your life, even if it means barging in your house for free food, because I care. I wanted to know you better. We fought side by side in the UBS, and honestly, it totally sucks to think of you only as a forced acquaintance."  
  
But your pride kept getting in the way, you know," she whispered audibly. "And sometimes I just wish you had nothing to be proud of, so we can at least come up to your level…"  
  
He pointedly ignored her unwavering gaze and stood up from his seat, clutching the now disfigured can of beer in his hands. This, all of this, was all too new for him-- having to cram for an essay when he finishes them on time, having to take considerations from teachers when he got their praise, having to ask help from other people when he managed on his own, having people over for tea and dinner when never in his life had he invited anyone for just a casual visit.  
  
…having someone actually admit that she wanted to know him when everyone else has avoided his presence and admired his entirety from a distance…  
  
What was it that he was feeling now?  
  
He didn't know. He didn't want to know.  
  
He was too afraid to find out.  
  
"Perhaps it's better if you leave, Kirisawa," he said coldly, still not facing her. "I'd like some time for myself now."  
  
Fuuko stood up and cleared her kimono. "Yeah, maybe I should," she said in a tone equal to his.   
  
The sound of her retreating footsteps echoed in his head, and it was when the door shut close did he hear the thundering sound of the rain pouring outside.  
  
~~~  
  
The purple-haired girl quickly made her way through the stately corridors of Mikagami's house. This time, she had no regard whatsoever for the imposing sculpture and paintings that arrayed the residence. Gone was the consternation and awe that was roused from the odd face, ball-metal cherubims.   
  
She was too preoccupied with her feelings of frustration.   
  
Maybe Yanagi would've done better. The healer would probably understand him better, or Tokiya would probably be more open to her because of the sister ties and all…  
  
Why did she even agree anyway?   
  
And what made her think that she can get to know the real Tokiya Mikagami just over a cup of tea?  
  
Fuuko found herself back in the foyer, right before the door that she earlier threatened to destroy. She knew it was time to stop dreaming of what could be and start accepting what really is. Taking a deep breath. After heaving a sigh of resignation, she pulled open the door and readily accepted her defeat.  
  
And it seemed that nature agreed with her too.  
  
The rain poured madly in ceaseless rhythm seemingly dictated by kami-sama himself. The continuous staccato of the raindrops echoed in her ears as it hit the cold dark pavement. And then joining the steady cadence of the cloudburst was the caterwauling lament of the wind, powerful enough to take her by surprise to make her lose her balance a bit as she opened the door. To complete the trio was the mighty strokes of lightning that glare down on the land every once in a while.  
  
'What a perfect ending for a perfect day,' she thought grimly.  
  
How on earth was she supposed to go back in this weather? At least she learned another thing: never trust the crappy weather channel. Expect bright sunshine with little to no rainshowers or thunderstorms her foot. This is definitely not a little rainshower.  
  
The disgruntled girl stood on the front porch, partially protected by the small roofing of the deck, contemplating if she should go back inside to ask for the tiniest bit of consideration and risk herself being weenie roast special ala ensui. The latter she didn't care about, surprisingly. In truth, she was just worried that Mikagami wouldn't take her coming back for any reason at all too well.  
  
Feeling considerate for his situation (Fuuko Kirisawa was rarely considerate, especially at times like this, but she was ready to believe that he had drugged the tea now), the girl took the first dreadful step from the porch and started to move as fast as she can in her kimono, which wasn't pretty fast, mind you. Getting even more frustrated by this fact, she bent down and tore the precious garment up to mid-thigh so she could move faster. To hell with it all. She'd buy another kimono. Heck, why on earth would she buy another kimono? She'd never wear one again after today. She just wanted to go home and-  
  
"What the?"  
  
Fuuko wondered aloud as the rain suddenly stopped pouring above her. Everything else around her was still taking part in nature's euphonious soliloquy. What about her? She wanted to be part of it to! She wanted to feel the insouciant rain cleanse her mind of the confusion she feels, for the harsh wind to allay her frenzied emotions.  
  
"You should've asked for an umbrella at least," was the impassive reply to her initial surprise.  
  
"Mikagami?"  
  
He didn't answer as he shrugged off his coat and placed it over her shoulders that were trembling in the cold. Fuuko readily accepted the initial warmth given by the garment, as well as the warmth unknowingly offered by him.  
  
It was one of those moments when action most definitely spoke louder than words, although he was unaware of the kind of language he was using. The first thing that occured to him after he made her leave was that it was raining. Hard. And he let her go when nature was in her temperamental mood. Some good host he is. Still vexed as he is from his initial reaction from her response, he couldn't let her go away just like that.  
  
He just wasn't sure if he was trying to get her back into the safety of his house until the storm subsided, or if he wanted her back in his life, storm or no storm.  
  
It was pertinent to realize that Fuuko Kirisawa also didn't understand the strong, unspoken rhetoric being made by Mikagami. All she knew was that she was cold, drenched and pissed off at the man who was now holding an umbrella atop her head for causing this stirring feeling somewhere in the pits of her chest  
  
What was she supposed to make out of this?.  
  
The hell with it. Both of them just wanted to be out of this rain.  
  
...and perhaps back in each others lives?  
  
Then they made their way back to his house.  
  
TBC  
  
A/N: Yokee... That was a pathetic attempt for conflict. Had to rush this chappie. Sorry if I disappointed y'all. I updated earlier 'coz the family's going to China for Christmas. To Anna-san and Jin-san, thank you very much for your information. Appreciate it a lot! And advance happy Christmas to all! 


	10. chapter 10

Disclaimer: I'm only using FoR and its characters for the fun of it! It doesn't belong to me.  
  
A Cup of Tea  
  
Chapter 10  
  
The cry of nature continued on without ever missing a beat. The stars have been completely veiled by the dark cloak of her seemingly eternal mourning. Its melancholic aria soon stepped up a crescendo as the wind gave a sudden bellow and the rain poured even harder.  
  
Underneath the tragic rendition of the cosmos, the figure of two persons braving the wrath of nature could be made out. The taller one pulled the girl closer as the strong wind blew in their direction. The umbrella was long forgotten, as it was too weak against the forces of universe. The teenagers quickened their pace as it rained even more.   
  
Fuuko Kirisawa fought the languor that was slowly creeping up her senses. She was too tired to carry herself and the tempest before her wasn't helping much. Her frail body was nothing against the strong gusts of wind coming her way. And aside from her current physical handicap, the emotional confusion she was going through right at that moment was getting close to unbearable. To just touch Tokiya Mikagami on the hand gave her these uneasy, tingling sensations, what more now, that she is enveloped in his protective arms.   
  
The reality of it all was too much too take. She found it odd, even, that she could already feel haggard just by exposing herself to wrought-up feelings and violent downpours. Surely she has more stamina that this. She fought in the UBS for crying out loud.  
  
But she felt really, really tired now. Her knees were so ready to give way…  
  
Mikagami immediately caught Fuuko as her limp body swayed violently towards the pavement.   
  
"I'm such a fool," she mumbled almost inaudibly.  
  
He adjusted his hold on her before replying, "So am I."  
  
The girl tilted her head a bit to look at him, only to see a vague, blurry picture of the ensui-wielder. Stray wisps of her hair marred her vision, and her dizziness was still extant, but she held on to him still, knowing that with him, she was safe to say the least.  
  
Tokiya tucked the locks of her purple hair behind her ears, but he pointedly avoided her questioning gaze, and the unspoken question it asked. Even he didn't know why he chased after her. Perhaps it was because he had been a terrible host, making his guest leave without as much as an umbrella in the middle of a storm. But then again, he wasn't aware that it was raining even. Or maybe it was this thing that he didn't want to admit. That the minute he heard the door slam close, he suddenly felt as if she would be gone…   
  
Forever? Not bloody likely. As ardent as he knew his feelings were, he knew where to draw the lines. Fuuko Kirisawa would never be gone forever. It was possible, but not highly probably.  
  
But he knew that their forced acquaintance of sorts would be terribly affected. What he had with her earlier, he knew, wasn't forced. And perhaps so more than what could be called an acquaintance. It was something like… friendship. Something he had never had in a long time. He didn't want to lose that, after he realized how differently pleasant he felt around her.  
  
That made him the fool he was right now.   
  
They stumbled their way inside the house unceremoniously, with Tokiya slamming the door shut with a quick shove of his foot.  
  
Fuuko immediately wrenched away from his protective hold, still adamant and stubborn as she is, refusing to yield to all this new feelings rousing from her once again. She didn't even want to try figuring out why he went after her. He was probably fearful of the fact that if she got sick because he let her leave his place without as much as an umbrella, Yanagi would forever renounce his presence in her life.  
  
Although she knew that her assumption could be true, she was more or less positive that there was more to Mikagami's action than what she places it to be. But she didn't want to know.   
  
Even if she already knew... Rather, both of them knew.  
  
In that moment, with her standing in all her lost hope under the rain, with him coming after her to shield her from the storm, with them facing nature's wrath together as they went back-it definitely looked like something that came out from a cheesy romance novel, but it was life's way-their way, of conveying without the power of words, that he was sorry, and she too was sorry, and since they have admitted and accepted their faults, they can start over again…  
  
"Mikagami?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Thanks…"  
  
He nodded in return. Gratitude, he knew always meant a lot of things-not necessarily only for the object it was thanked for.  
  
"Um, so can I get an umbrella now and go home?"  
  
"You're staying for the night."  
  
The girl ceased all ongoing mind games and stared at him with a surprised look mirrored in her face. "What?!"  
  
"You're staying here for the night," he repeated in a no-nonsense voice. "I can't let you go out in this weather, umbrella or no umbrella."  
  
Fuuko wasn't able to help herself as she asked in a somehow biting manner. "Why, 'coz you think Yanagi-chan'll never forgive you if I get sick?"  
  
It was now time, he believed, to take the silly notion that all he did with her had something to do with Yanagi as the foundation off her head. He knew as light and jovial as Fuuko is, her brain functioned in a rate faster than the rest of her peers. It was already a given that Fuuko would've thought about Yanagi sometime throughout the course of her short stay here.  
  
"I'm not doing any this because of Yanagi. I'm doing this for your welfare, Kirisawa."  
  
"Yeah right, whatever!" but nevertheless, Fuuko was somewhat swayed by his seemingly genuine care.  
  
Tokiya ignored her and made his way to the staircase.  
  
"Oi, where are you going?!" Fuuko cried and ran up to follow him.  
  
"Upstairs, to shower and dry up," he stated in a casual voice, and in a rare moment of mischief, added "Why? Want to join?"  
  
The stunned wind-wielder gaped at him, shocked at his suggestion. It seemed like something Domon and Recca would say, and if they said it, they'd crack up immediately. But Tokiya Mikagami still had his straight face on and didn't even flinch a bit when he said those words, which made her wonder if he really was serious.   
  
Noticing her apparent surprise and the lack of words coming from her open mouth, Mikagami chuckled. "I was kidding Kirisawa."  
  
"Of course I knew that!" she retorted. "Why one earth would anyone want to see YOU naked?!"  
  
He smirked as they both made their way upstairs. "You'd be surprised, Kirisawa, that normal red-blooded females would willingly empty their bank accounts just to see that sight," he gave her a sidelong glance. "But then you'd never know…"  
  
"Are you saying I'm not female?!"  
  
"I'm insinuating the suggestion that you might not have normal red blood like the rest of the female population."  
  
The girl stuck her tongue at him and crossed her arms. "You don't even like those girls, Mi-chan."  
  
Which is the reason why I'm here talking with you, he replied in his mind. But then he didn't think he'd come along saying that aloud. Ever. As long as she is with him.   
  
He was given another chance tonight. And he better not mess it up. It definitely wasn't about tea anymore. And it is unquestionably more than the arrangement of pride. Somehow, he half-expected this unorthodox allegory to go with Fuuko prying herself in his life, like she always does. But it was different now. He has intentionally destroyed the boundary he had set upon himself. Was he that desperate to be known? To be understood? To be cared for? And even to be…   
  
Loved?  
  
TBC  
  
Happy New Year everyone! Just came from China and it was so cold there. I'm writing chapter 12 already, and I'm expecting to end things by chapter 13. So there. I think my pacing's kinda slow. Imgaine, 13 chapters for a span of 4 days! 


	11. chapter 11

Disclaimer: I'm only using FoR and its characters for the fun of it! It doesn't belong to me.  
  
A Cup of Tea  
  
Chapter 11  
  
As the rain carried through her soulful reprise, Mikagami opened the mahogany doors and turned on the lights, revealing the room Fuuko was to stay in for the night. Like the rest of the house, it held an atavistic kind of grandeur, but it contained the necessities of a bedroom, like of course, the bed, covered with a deep red bedspread and a purple afghan. Beside it stood an old oakwood table overtly varnished several times, with an antiquated but ornate bedside lamp on top. On the other side of the bed was yet another antediluvian dresser whose mirror was partly cracked. To the left of the room stood the window, proudly displaying the showcase of nature's ire as its rich velvet draperies were tied at the sides.  
  
Fuuko held her breath as she made her way inside, her eyes traveling around the dark mahogany walls adorned with equally old yet exquisite paintings. She didn't know much about art herself, but she knew a good artwork when she sees one. She stopped before a particular impressionistic painting of a young girl and boy chasing butterflies on a nice spring day with the cherry blossoms around falling around them.  
  
But then something caught her eye… Behind the two children under the shade of the sakura tree sat four more people, who all seemed awfully familiar to her. She returned her gaze to the two children, and noticed that at the foot of the girl was a yellow dog…? Cat…? She couldn't tell. The painting was very well made, in her opinion, but she still couldn't make anything of the blob of running yellow. Was it even a fox? Heck, it even looked like Kondo…  
  
Kondo?  
  
"Mikagami! This is a painting of Kaoru-kun and Ganko-chan!" she exclaimed.   
  
Mikagami was about to hand Fuuko a shirt and a pair of track pants that he has grown out of, as the girl suddenly cried out her observation.   
  
"See, Mi-chan?" she asked again. "Those kids are Kaoru-kun and Ganko-chan." She pointed to the little yellow spot below Ganko. "And that's Kondo, see? At first I thought it was a dog, then a cat, then I couldn't make up my mind…" she laughed, and then returned her gaze to the four people under the sakura tree. "And that's gotta be me, Domon and Recca and Yanagi-chan!" she squealed. 'Where'd you buy this painting, Mi-chan? "  
  
His blue orbs turned to see what had captivated Fuuko's attention so much. He smiled slightly, as the memories of the painting came flooding back.  
  
It was spring, obviously, as the sakura petals swam along with the cool breeze. The season has promised the opening of a new leaf for the Hokage team, especially after their victory at the UBS. And the weekend after they had set foot again in their beloved hometown, they decided that a celebratory picnic at the park would do them well. Preparations were made, particularly those concerning the food. Actually, all they had to focus on was preparing the food, knowing the insatiable appetites those to be fed had. As for the rest of the day that didn't concern lunch and snacks, they knew they'd find some sort of entertainment in each other's company.  
  
Though as expected, Tokiya Mikagami didn't show.  
  
Recca snorted and picked up another riceball. "You actually expected him to show up?!"  
  
Fuuko shrugged nonchalantly as she stretched her legs and leaned her back on the tree truck. "Why not?" she countered. "I mean, it's not as if we didn't spend the last month toiling with our own sweat and blood together…"  
  
"But Fuuko, darling," Domon cooed as he began to settle himself beside her. "You said yourself that frozen meat like him will never thaw even if subjected to radiation."  
  
She slowly inched away from Domon's transparent advances. "Domon, you don't even know what radiation is!" She took a riceball herself and sighed. "But I guess you're right. Well-I'm right, in a way…"  
  
The chestnut-haired healer watched her friend curiously as she sipped from her can of soda. It wasn't everyday that her feisty girlfriend would just stand up to what she considered as the walking yet untalking, breathing yet unliving 'icebloke' that is Tokiya Mikagami. It seemed only yesterday that Fuuko was ready to trounce all she can on his 'pathetic loser ass'. Of course, that was long before they all seemed to have suddenly grown up during the UBS.   
  
As she watched Kaoru and Ganko freely chasing butterflies, she wondered if they'll ever get a chance once more to at least go back to experience how the way things were.  
  
But unknown to them, it wasn't only Yanagi who was wishing to turn back time at the sight of the youngest Hokage members' playfulness.   
  
Said missing person Tokiya Mikagami let out a half-hearted sigh as he positioned himself atop a hill not too far from the rest of his teammates. A good part of him just wanted to go down there and enjoy the festivities of being a normal teenager again, now that the clamor that he has been going through was over, in a way. But it would never be over, he knew, for the minute that he decided to dedicate the rest of his life to the demise of his sister's killer, he'd never come out of that shell again. And what use was trying, since it will all be for naught. It would be useless to dwell on something he thought he could have, but really couldn't.  
  
So he'd just stay here, presumably peaceful and content to the passersby. A handsome 17 year old getting in touch with his artistic side on a beautiful spring day. He knew as much as the rest of the Hokage who were frolicking below how lucky they must've been to still be alive after an ordeal like that. Madougus and combative competence aside, they really were a lucky bunch. And down there, they were celebrating their lives. As for him, he felt that he wasn't ready to celebrate life and its glory yet.   
  
In any case, he would stay there, painting the joyous occasion, to capture their true moment of glory. A simple snapshot would certainly be easier for his part, but the joy in doing so would last for just a brief moment. He wanted to capture the gladness in canvas, as well as recreate it on his own. Perhaps then he'd come to realize just how much happiness there is in this place, enough happiness possible, to even make him feel it fully again.  
  
Was he happy right now?  
  
Obviously, his beaming companion was.  
  
"This is such a cool painting," Fuuko went on. "Did you even realize that it was us when you bought this?"  
  
"Kirisawa, I don't buy things that I can make," he stated in a flat voice.  
  
"Funny, Mikagami," she replied dryly. "I don't think there's enough of you to fall in line for genius painter since you were busy gathering genes for drop-dead looks, superior IQ and cook extraordinaire."  
  
He smirked. "Lower right corner, then."  
  
Fuuko followed his direction and found 'Tokiya Mikagami' painted in clear romanji.  
  
"You are so not human."  
  
"I assure you, I am."  
  
She sighed and looked at him directly. "Yeah, I can see that clearly. Doesn't take a rocket scientist to find out."  
  
He raised an eyebrow at her questioningly.  
  
"I find it funny," she continued. "the way I used to think how inhuman you are, being the icebloke and all… You never seemed to care about anything. But you're actually more human that the rest of us."  
  
"Because I cook and clean and paint and have a garden?" he provided in a skeptical manner, highly doubting himself that it was what Fuuko was pointing out.  
  
"No, duh, I had that realization long before I came here. You doing your emotionless thing is one of the typical defense mechanisms of everyone," she paused, trying to contemplate if she should venture on. "it's an expected reaction when someone gets hurt. Withdrawing and isolating and stuff like that. We're just scared of being hurt again."  
  
He watched her intently as she returned her gaze back to the painting. How could she know all of this? It was the first time he actually thought of it. He was hurt. Very much hurt, by the loss of his beloved sister. And he vowed to himself to avenge her death, and in a way, consciously donned on an apathetic mask, thinking that if he did so, he wouldn't be subjected to the reality of pain and suffering.  
  
And again, what Fuuko Kirisawa said made sense. Everybody must have, sometime in their lives, donned that same mask, that it has become ultimately a human characteristic to do so.  
  
"And I think we're scared to get hurt because…"  
  
"Because of our pride." He finished for her.  
  
She grinned. "It's really weird, right? The way it seems to stop us from fully living, but the way we need it to exist."  
  
He was about to ask her again what she meant, but then noticed that the person before him was still drenched and was not-so-gracefully dripping on the carpeted floor.  
  
"I'd figure as much," he handed her his old garments and pointed to another door. "Take a shower now, then I'll take you up on your little idea."  
  
Fuuko looked down on the items of clothing that he has given her. The gesture in itself was greatly appalling some part of her mind, telling her that what was happening right now was no longer a fabrication of her highly active imagination. She earlier expected that the tea had taken its toll on her, and that Mikagami inviting to stay for dinner was just her hallucinating. But her fancy seemed to transcend itself as it turned out to be real. And now she found herself holding one of his old shirts and track pants, feeling as if it was now the weather that has taken its toll on her.  
  
"Kirisawa, I am not afraid of monkey fleas, if that's why you're hesitating."  
  
The girl snapped out from her reverie and forced a smile. "Well that's certainly endearing," she replied sarcastically. She walked pass him and went inside the bathroom.  
  
Tokiya sighed at the sight of the retreating figure. It was his cue to leave and take a shower of his own. This day was definitely much more than what he bargained for.  
  
And it wasn't even over yet.  
  
TBC 


	12. chapter 12

Disclaimer: I'm only using FoR and its characters for the fun of it! It doesn't belong to me.  
  
A Cup of Tea  
  
Chapter 12  
  
He, also fresh from the shower and in his own pajamas, returned 45 minutes later to her room with a tray of goodies in his hands.  
  
But Fuuko was too preoccupied to even notice that Tokiya Mikagami was standing before her donning the wet-look that every girl in campus would willingly die for just to see, as well as the tray of goodies: another pot of tea and assorted cookies.  
  
Sighing, Mikagami placed the tray on top of the dresser and pulled a nearby chair over. It was one of those rare moments that he could sit down and just contently watch Fuuko Kirisawa in all her… annoyingly irritating yet amusing naivete.  
  
"Need help?" he offered out of something akin to sympathy and mirth.  
  
"Ergh, Fuuko-ack! Kirisawa does NOT- itaai! Need help! K'so!"   
  
Smirking, he poured himself a cup of the warm drink and leaned back on the chair, knowing fully well that the girl would never admit defeat. "Are you sure?" he asked again.  
  
"Yea-ugh. I can do this, see?" but Fuuko knew how terribly pathetic she looked right at that moment.   
  
"Suit yourself Kirisawa," he replied nonchalantly. "I'll be here quietly munching these cookies while you make a fool out of yourself."  
  
The flustered girl immediately ceased her movements and finally paid attention to him. Or rather, the cookies. She reached towards the dresser and gingerly picked one. "Did you bake them?" she asked out of curiosity.  
  
"I'm not a bakeshop, Fuuko."  
  
Fuuko was able to finish one in just two bites. "I'd figure. This tastes even better than the cake." She reached for another one and poured the tea on the empty cup. Balancing the teacup between her legs, and the cookie in her mouth, she resumed her earlier business of trying to yank the brush that seemed to have taken permanent residence in the tangled purple mass that is her hair. But instead, the task even seemed more daunting as the cup wobbled violently and cookie crumbs were starting to fall on the pristine sheets.  
  
"You're messing the bed," he pointed out.  
  
An irritated grunt was her reply.  
  
"It would be easier if you do one thing at a time."  
  
He'd never admit it out loud, true as it may seem, that he did probably spend most of his time in line for drop-dead looks, superior IQ, cook extraordinaire and genius painter, in place of those necessary values and virtues the saints probably fell in line for. But he was no saint. Therefore explaining his pateince running dry with Fuuko's antics. Especially if the immaculate bedsheets he got from Germany were at risk.  
  
"I know multi-tasking is one of your favorite hobbies, Kirisawa, but I hardly think you need to do that in a situation like this."  
  
The highly fed up girl stopped, drank the tea in one gulp and placed the cup back on the drawer. She then proceeded to stuff in her mouth 2 more cookies. Drank more tea and resumed her earlier pulling position. "I don't see you doing anything to help."  
  
"That's because you were too busy acting like a prat to notice."  
  
She 'hmphd' loudly and glowered at him before finally scooting a little to the head of the bed. Mikagami placed his own cup down and immediately went to business.  
  
The tableau in itself would definitely be regarded as extremely entertaining for both parties, and they would have very much willingly accepted it, save for the fact that Fuuko was visibly clenching her jaw as a way of repressing the pain coming from her head, to which Mikagami was exerting an enormous amount of control to not whip out his ensui and just lop off the unruly clump of her hair that seems to be magnetized to the brush.  
  
"Just what do you use on your hair, Fuuko?" he muttered as he gave another strong pull.  
  
"Facial soap."  
  
The pulling immediately stopped and Tokiya blurted out his surprise in a highly unusual incredulous voice. "Facial soap?"  
  
Fuuko rolled her eyes and took another cookie. "Sometimes, you're even more gullible than Domon."  
  
She didn't see his face as she was sitting before him, but she knew very well that one of his perfectly formed smirks had graced his face. Contrary to her initial belief on how this 'sleepover' would be like-a warm shower, stiff change of clothing and a crisp good night, if there was supposed to be any at all, considering how unnecessarily impulsive she acted. But she felt more comfortable now, with yet another thing at the back of her head saying that all was well with them now, regardless of what happened earlier.  
  
Feeling oddly at peace with feel of Mikagami's old shirts keeping her warm, with the exotic yet palatable taste of the his perfectly blended tea, and his unusually soft warm hands which he had expected to be hard and callused, seeing how hard he pushes himself every time he trains… She sighed, and unconsciously leaned back on his chest and grabbed yet another cookie.  
  
If Tokiya took any notice, or minded her actions in the very least, he didn't say anything and just went on with the tedious job of untangling the brush from her hair.  
  
A commodious silence filled the room, probably the first relaxed one they've had for the whole day, in which most of their stillness was filled with tension.  
  
"Hey, Mii-chan," she mumbled after finally finishing off the last cookie. She was now amusing herself by stirring the cup of tea in her hands. At least, that was what she made herself believe that was amusing her. She'd never admit out loud that she actually liked leaning against Mikagami's lithe body, or having his hands mess with her hair. Although an even more amusing bit to it all was that she probably wasn't even aware of what she-or even he-was doing in that moment. All she knew was that she felt safe… And warm. And cozy…  
  
And inexplicably insightful. Must be the tea, she thought.  
  
"Why'd you write an essay about pride anyway?"  
  
Because I thought I'd rant about how my pride is slowly destroying me right now. Or how pride led me to this way of life, and has now left me to fend off for myself. Or how it stays with me still, tempting me to make a move, eagerly awaiting my demise…  
  
"I don't know."  
  
The phrase sounded so foreign to his lips. He was Tokiya Mikagami. He always knew! Mikagami-san, ? Sempai, can I have your number? No. Mikagami, what's the answer to number 11? Cube root of 132xy squared. Young man, can you tell me where this place is? 3 blocks down the street.   
  
And he found himself wondering just how much he didn't know when he was around her.  
  
"Oh… That's nice. I thought you knew everything." She said in a voice that seemed far away.  
  
"I don't."  
  
"Well I think you do. At least," she paused. "At least I think you know why you wrote about pride…"  
  
He tugged harder on the brush causing Fuuko to give a little yelp. "You know too much for your own good."  
  
"Mm, yes, I guess… Just like the way we're too proud for our own good."  
  
"Point taken, Kirisawa." He silently wondered if the girl was even aware of what she was saying as he peered down to see her with her eyes gently closed and small playful smile tugging at her lips. She seemed blissfully unaware of everything and anything, yet still she can stupefy him with this kind of sagacity that she rarely shows. "What are you proud of the most?" he asked discreetly, hoping that his query wouldn't break her chain of thought, or whatever happy happy lalala dimension she seemed to be in.   
  
Fuuko shifted so that her head was now leaning on his shoulder. She reached for a pillow and plopped it between her crossed legs. "I dunno…" she admitted. "Maybe, well, when I was a kid, I used to be proud of being a bully."  
  
In his mind, Tokiya pictured a tiny girl with ruffled purple hair atop a mass of bruised boys.  
  
"I mean, fighting is the only thing I'm proud of, y'know. The only thing I could do well… I could, like, take down six 12 year olds when I was 7. And now… And now I managed to prove what I can do in the UBS. Makes me feel real nice and all."  
  
"Are you still proud of it until now?"  
  
"Oh no… It's ironic, really. After the UBS, I'm not so proud of my abilities as I used to be…"  
  
"So what are you proud of now?"  
  
A contented sigh escaped her lips. "Living… My life."  
  
Definitely not the answer he was expecting. He half wondered if the tea had something to do with it. He was a hundred percent sure that no drugs were added to it as he made it himself, as well as the cookies. But perhaps, as she had admitted to him earlier that evening in the middle of her fury, it was one of those times that she just blurts out things that she doesn't really mean.  
  
Although still, he knew that she means it. Every word she has said. Much like the saying goes that jokes are always half meant, Fuuko Kirisawa's words, no matter how absurd, amusing or antagonizing they are, it means a lot more than she makes them up to be.  
  
It was probably all he needed to complete his essay as well.  
  
Should he press on for more answers, or should he venture on the idea by himself? She seemed tired, more like drugged, pointed out the tiny voice in his head, and indeed she did look a little dazed off, with a tiny smile than bordered to a smirk playing on her lips and a far-away look on her eyes. Was it him, or did her skin seem paler, and at the same time glowing off some sort of radiance within…?  
  
Scratch that. She wasn't drugged. He was, obviously, having delusions of incandescent lights emanating from Kirisawa's skin. If she uses facial soap on her hair, maybe she uses shampoo on her body. Is that why she has that weird glowing thing going on? (A/N: Uy, Vaseline! Haha! ^o^)  
  
And in that moment he realized that he has long ago finished untangling the brush from her hair, and he was just now letting her lean on him freely, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. That is, for her to lean on him, cup of tea in hand, while he rested his own body at the head of the bed, his own silvery mane draping over both their heads.  
  
"So man is proud of the wrong things, then?"  
  
"I guess you could say that."  
  
"And you're proud of the right thing."  
  
"I never said I was sure… It's what I think. What I believe in. I'd take a chance in believing something right now, rather than to wait for something to be proven for along time and not believe in anything at all."  
  
"Like in God?"  
  
"Yup, just like God."  
  
"You know, I never really believed in God," Warning bells suddenly blew off in his head, signaling that it was a new uncharted territory he was crossing, and that if he went further than this, well, he had no idea what would happen, but he was pretty sure he would need more tea to figure it out. And that would mean a tea partner to help him figure it out…  
  
Fuuko languidly stretched her arms and gave a big yawn. "That's nice, Mi-chan…"  
  
"Uh, sure." Was all that he could reply, partly because he was surprised that that was all Fuuko said, but then he reminded himself that she was probably tired and her brain was getting cloudy, just as his brain was getting even cloudier by the moment. Yes, they were just probably too tired. It has been a very exciting day after all. "Listen Kirisawa, I think you should go to-"  
  
The words left hanging from his mouth as the girl has already draped her upper body on his lap, head gently resting on his lower abdomen. Only the soft snoring sound could be heard, as well as the now gentle pattering of the rain.  
  
Sighing, he extracted himself from her and repositioned her gently on the bed. The comforter was draped on the sleeping form, and with a bit of hesitation, he leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead.  
  
  
If Fuuko were awake she would've felt her blood freeze at this action. But she was sleeping, all she felt, or thought she felt as she was continuing her way towards dreamland, was the ethereal graze of soft lips touching her.  
  
It took the thunderous clap of lighting outside to make him realize just what he did. In that instant, he quickly pulled away staring at the sleeping girl in disbelief. What on earth did he just do? The question itself was very much directed to his uncalled achievement as no one (at least in his extensive knowledge) has ever managed to kiss Fuuko Kirisawa before. She was an 'untouchable' among the campus girls, so to say, literally and figuratively, lest you want a one-way trip to some distant galaxy.  
  
And it wasn't just the kiss… It was everything else. Now that he looked at it, everything that happened today was rather surreal. As if everything happened in some alternate dimension, and he was stuck in the real world, watching the unreal Tokiya Mikagami having tea, and actually enjoying the company of the wind-wielder.   
  
His logic, which was considerably of a higher level compared to his peers, managed to delve itself in the intricacies of his emotions and pointed out that he was indeed caught in the web of denial.   
  
He was an advocate of his brain. It carried him through, made him superior to everyone around him. He knew that everything happened there, including whatever emotion he might be feeling. The heart does nothing more than pump blood. It does not hold all his innermost desires. Everything was in his head, including most of his hormones and the things that trigger those said hormones that in turn makes him feel this feeling of denial…  
  
Ever the logical brain that is Tokiya Mikagami. He sighed. Now is not the time to think about this, he resolved. But in place for all this emotional mumbo-jumbo he was experiencing, he managed to squeeze out some juice for his essay, and for that he was extremely thankful. Yes, he can always think about this some time in the future (though his subconscious was obviously set on the dial 'forget') but right now, he has an essay to finish.  
  
TBC  
  
Hopefully, next chapter will be the last. Finally! ^_^ 


	13. chapter 13

A/N: I am soooooo~ totally sorry for this really really long delay. I had too much stuff going on in school that I had no time to finish the fic. Anyway, I take it back. This is supposed to be the last chapter, but I can't finish the essay yet, so technically this is the second to the last chapter. I hope you guys are happy. ^u^  
  
Chapter 13  
  
The first thing Fuuko Kirisawa noticed when she woke up was that she wasn't in her bed. That it was bigger, softer, nicer, the type she'd expect to find in mansions-and that if this were a dream, and she was quite positive it was, she'd better get a move on to see what kind of castle she had woken up in.  
  
Groggily swinging both feet from the bed, she stood up and languidly stretched, removing all sleepy bones from her body. Before her was a large window with rich purple draperies folded at the side. Curious, she looked out to see what kind of magical kingdom she has entered in her dream, but was greatly disappointed, then confused, at the sight of the train station.  
  
What on earth is this castle doing in the middle of Shibuya district?!  
  
But then again, all of her dreams were odd. Scratch that. It was already a given that if you have a dream, it was bound to be odd, though it can either be a nice kind of weird, or the bad kind of weird. This thing going on right now, was definitely some sort of a nice kind of weird. For one she was glad that it wasn't raining as hard as it was back in the real world.   
  
Oh yes, the real world. It would still be raining heavily there. She would be curled up in her decent bed. Not as extravagant as her dream-bed here, but it held all her necessities, such as her 3 pillows (one for her head, one to hug, and one to prop her legs on), the fluffy pink bunny Yanagi had given her earlier for her Christmas (which she accepted with a reluctant grin), the huge brown teddy bear Recca had given her (which almost always ends up on the floor with her constant tossing and turning), and the Hello Kitty comforter that she was supposed to give Ganko for Christmas (but it turned out that the girl had one exactly like it, so she ended up using it instead).  
  
Soon, she knew, she'd wake up in the real world, and all that she'll remember in this dream was this majestic room. Resolved to find out more about her castle in the middle of Shibuya district, Fuuko made her way outside as she noticed that she wasn't in her normal flannel pajamas. She wore a shirt to big for her, and jogging pants that were even longer. Frowning, she wondered what happened to the cotton pajamas that she was supposed to be wearing. She was in a castle for crying out loud! Surely the wardrobe they have has more class than these large hand-me-downs.  
  
She headed purposefully towards the towering mahogany closet and was fairly disappointed to find it empty. It seems that she has to make do with this oversized apparel. Sighing, she made her way to the large double-doors as a certain painting caught her eye. It was a painting of Ganko and Kaoru chasing butterflies. And behind them, under the shade of a tree, sat the rest of Hokage.  
  
She frowned again, as a certain realization hit her. She wasn't surprised. At all. Not even the tiniest bit of excitement seeing this beautiful painting in her dream. Usually she'd feel much exuberant just at the sight of someone she knew in one of her nicely weird dreams. And now she feels as if she has seen this painting somewhere before…  
  
And her mulling was promptly interrupted by the rumbling of her stomach.  
  
Her footsteps didn't make much of a sound along the imposing corridor, for the reason that she was barefooted. It was normal for her, since as she recalled, she was barefoot in all of her dreams. And it was for the better too, as there might be fire-breathing dragons that would suddenly materialize (or in the case of another dream, Recca's eight dragons came very close to skewering her because she burped) if she moved too loudly.   
  
The main destination in her mind was the kitchen. At the back of her mind, she was wondering if she would find the kitchen in time before she passes out from hunger. In a place as large as this, who knew what sort of labyrinth the grand hallways are presenting her. She might not get out of this dream alive! She might die in her sleep! She might-  
  
Staircase. It leads to the lower floors, where most kitchens are conveniently located… She silently thanked her subconscious before she ended up in the deeper territories of trepidation.   
  
But now, looking at what seemed to be the ground floor of her castle in the middle of Shibuya, it seemed awfully familiar to her, as if she has been here before.  
  
And at that moment, the distinct smell of waffles wafted through the air.  
  
The girl silently marveled at how acute her senses seemed to be in her dream. Everything looked real, felt real, and even smelt real! The smell of the waffles has been now accompanied by that of fried bacon. An odd combination for her taste, but she was hungry and she couldn't care less.   
  
But then her superhuman sensitivity might end as she ate. She highly doubted that she'd be able to revel in those bacon and waffles, no matter how good they smelled. Oh well, there's a limit for everything…  
  
But that everything didn't seem to include the other inhabitants of her dream.  
  
Never in her whole life did she have a dream with HIM in it. Never. Never ever! So why start now? Why in her beautiful castle in the middle of Shibuya?  
  
"WHY?!?!?!?!"  
  
Tokiya merely shrugged off her infuriating whining and placed the plate of bacon on the table. He glanced at her through the corner of his eye to find Fuuko's face plastered in a look that can be called complete abashment.  
  
"W-w-w-what are you doing in my dream?!!!" she demanded through her sputtering. "You can't be here! This is MY dream!"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
Fuuko crossed the gap between them in a flurry and poked him with a finger. "You feel real," she mused. "But it shouldn't be that way!"  
  
Tokiya watched the girl with vague thoughts of vexation, amusement, confusion, and surprise, all criss-crossing at the back of his head. Just what is Kirisawa trying to play at here? Is this some sort of game, he wondered. Did she expect him to play along, or did she really think she was dreaming? She seemed like it. How could a person wake up and the he was dreaming anyway? Did that even happen?  
  
Apparently, it was happening right in front of him. The confusion in Fuuko's face couldn't be mistaken for anything else. She couldn't be drunk, he mulled. She didn't even finish her one can of beer last night.  
  
And he absolutely refused to think about the whole 'drugged tea' idea.  
  
It was an irony in itself, as he found himself pouring her a cup of the said drink and pushing it towards the flustered girl, who took it without any question. And stared at it. And stared at it even more, much to his dire irritation.  
  
"This is tea," she said in an unusually calm voice. "It's earl gray tea… How come I know that? I've never had tea before." She asked, looking at him with a gaze that clearly said 'you know everything so tell my right now WHY!'  
  
"You drank it yesterday."  
  
"I did?"  
  
"Yes, you did," he answered with a hint of finality in his voice, his patience already worn thin. "Kirisawa, you are not dreaming. You are in my house. You are in my kitchen. You are holding a cup of earl gray in your hands. And you are about to eat breakfast. Understood?"  
  
Fuuko grinned. "Wow, you are so much like the real Tokiya Mikagami, except for the fact that you talk a lot…"  
  
"Eat Kirisawa, that you may finally realize that YOU ARE NOT DREAMING."  
  
Before taking the cup to her mouth, Fuuko waggled a disapproving finger at him. "Mi-chan never raises his voice to females. You should know that. You won't be a good dream-alter-ego if you don't know what Mi-chan is like."   
  
All Mikagami could do was roll his eyes. And after much stalling (as she realized how easy it was to irk this dream-alter-ego Mikagami just like the 'real' one) Fuuko finally took a sip from the tea.  
  
And the warm, unbridled taste brought her back to the reality. Rather, brought her back enough sense to realize that she IS already in reality. And everything before her was real… Like the sight of Mikagami looming over her with a grim look painted on his face.  
  
"What?" she asked defensively.  
  
He watched her for a few more seconds before taking his own seat and pouring himself a cup of tea. "You're weird, you know that."  
  
"Thanks for pointing out the obvious."  
  
They ate in companionable silence. For Mikagami, it was merely how things always were ever since. Eating in silence. Relishing on the goodness of the food (which he made). Leafing through the day's newspaper. It was all part of the routine that he has enjoyed ever since. Save for the fact that he had someone with him. But still, he was grateful that Kirisawa was respecting how he preferred to spend Sunday mornings at his house.  
  
But Fuuko wasn't feeling to peaceful yet. A thousand questions raced through her mind, to be then answered by memories of what happened the other day every time she took a sip from the tea. Soon, she found herself downing her fifth cup, and when she paused to catch her breath, she found Mikagami looking at her with an intrigued look on his face.  
  
"You finished the tea, Kirisawa."  
  
"I- I did?" she asked unbelievingly. "But this is just my fifth cup an-Oh. My fifth cup…" She smiled wanly and handed him the nearly empty cup of tea. "Here. You want?"  
  
Tokiya looked at the half-empty cup with a mildly appalled look before pushing it back to her. "No thanks. Monkey germs, remember?" was what he was supposed to counter, but the response seemed to have been caught in his throat as their hands touched… The familiar jolts of magnetism came coursing through their skins-perhaps even deeper-again. Just like yesterday.   
  
Yesterday…  
  
Yesterday wasn't a dream, after all. Mikagami surmised. He woke up today, feeling rather peeved at himself for waking up in the kitchen table. Apparently, he has fallen asleep while he was writing down the rest of his essay, just as he finished his 'talk' with Fuuko. Needless to say, last night was definitely surreal, enough to make him think that everything was just a figment of his imagination.  
  
He was rather surprised as well to find the person who plagued his dreams last night to be equally, if not more (as she did wake up thinking she was still in her dream) flustered about everything.  
  
Fuuko quickly pulled back and proceeded to busy herself with studying the bacon. It was a very interesting piece of meat indeed. Why, if she hadn't been cooped up in this place with Mikagami, helping him with his essay, she would've eagerly spent her weekend at the butcher shop learning how to make bacon cuts. And that was a very stupid thought, she amended. What the hell is wrong with her this time, aside from the fact that she was a tomato-faced freak who's addicted to tea and bacon.  
  
Wait… Essay?  
  
"Oh, erm, sorry I wasn't able to help with the essay Mi-chan."  
  
"Hardly". Yet Mikagami knew just how much she was able to help with his essay. And it scares him, yes, scares him so, to even think that she has helped him realized more things than he was prepared to realize in this point of his life. It wasn't just about the essay anymore. That much he knew.  
  
And a part of him still insists that the person before him wasn't JUST Fuuko Kirisawa, Fuujin master, and all-around monkey.  
  
But he'd be damned if he were to admit all of this before her right now. He had his pride, still. But maybe someday, he might just tell her how much he appreciated this… All of this.  
  
Fuuko's eyes narrowed as she noticed something odd with Mikagami's demeanor. "So how come you're not at all upset at the fact that you wasted an entire weekend with useless old me?"  
  
"Ever the tenacious monkey, aren't we now?"  
  
"You actually think you can change the great Fuuko Kirisawa with your pathetically drugged tea?"  
  
Drugged tea deal again… Mikagami sighed resignedly. He highly doubted that she will let go of the whole drugged tea business.  
  
"But really, now, Mi-chan," Fuuko repeated, her voice sounding rather sincere to his ears. "Sorry I wasn't much help with your essay. Guess you'll be getting your first F, huh? It's not so bad, really. I managed to survive 2 of them last year. I'm sure you can, too."  
  
Tokiya resisted the urge to actually smile at the way Fuuko was trying to make him feel better. It wasn't an everyday occurrence that people actually did that to him. Or rather, it wasn't everyday that people noticed that he was in need of reassurance of any sort. Perhaps he should let her worry even more…  
  
"Oh, come now, Mikagami! If I remember correctly, Domon had 9 of those dratted F marks combining this year and the last, and he's perfectly fine!"  
  
A delicate eyebrow was raised, challenging her last statement.  
  
"Er, okay, maybe not perfectly fine," she sheepishly amended. "But he is managing well for a hulking mass of a gorilla." She grinned when she noticed that corner of her companion's lips curl up ever so slightly.  
  
"That's all well and nice, Kirisawa, recounting to me all your past failures in the academia, but I've absolutely no intention of following in you, or your said hulking mass of a gorilla's footsteps. I managed to finish that essay last night."  
  
"You did?" she asked doubtfully. "How?"  
  
"I sat on a chair, took a pen and started writing, that's how."  
  
Fuuko flashed him a mock glare and shook her head. "Yes, I figured as much, but… I guess it's good that you finally had an idea on what to write next."  
  
Mikagami merely nodded and proceeded to devour his waffles in a prim manner. Fuuko decided to follow suit, although devouring hers in a more unfashionable way, with the syrup slowly dripping at the edge of her mouth, much to Mikagami's exasperation.  
  
"Bloody hell, Kirisawa!" he exclaimed all of a sudden, reached for the nearest napkin and wiped the trickle of honey quite roughly from her mouth. "You don't have to eat like a 5 year old!"  
  
"Gee, thanks mum," she replied with a flash of a huge grin. "So anyway, can I read your final work?"  
  
She was greatly amazed as a look of something akin to alarm came over his pale face. He cleared his throat, proceeded to finish the remains of his tea and promptly gave a stiff "No."  
  
The finality in his voice hindered her from nagging him again, as she would've done without even a second thought before. But what about now? What has changed between them that she actually respected his privacy about this. Did some high-power deity decide to give her the boon of being able to read Mikagami through his voice and actions? It seemed like it, though, and she couldn't help but feel just a tad elated, and a great deal befuddled, at this revelation.  
  
"Fine then. Maybe you can make me read it some other time then."  
  
Mikagami was fairly surprised at her acquiescent manner. It wasn't just like Fuuko Kirisawa to give up without a fight. It wasn't even like her to give up at all! But he wouldn't prod this idea any longer. For now, he was just glad that she understood. At least he hoped she did. "Yeah, sometime."  
  
She beamed at him. The most radiant smile that he has seen from her… From anyone.  
  
And he smiled back.  
  
TBC 


	14. author's notes

My biggest apologies to you all for taking sooooo~ long in updating. In answer the the foremost question that is bugging you all... I SHALL BE POSTING THE LAST CHAPTER SOMETIME THIS WEEK OR THE NEXT.  
  
I had trouble writing due to some problems. The primary one is that of my computer crashing, therefore deleting the already typed-and-ready-to-be-posted chapter 14. I had to rewrite the bugger again. But it was so different from the way it originally turned out so I went into a long hiatu to gather my thoughts.  
  
Of course, there is always school, family etc etc etc... You know the drill.  
  
Anyway, I'm just making a separate A/N post just to see if you guys are still following me here. If you are, please do drop a note so I can polish it off.  
  
Sequels? Epilogues? Spin-offs? Maybe. ^__^ I have plot ideas. It's just the execution part that bothers me. I hope I can still find enough sources of inspiration. ^_~  
  
Again, thank you for the support. I enjoyed writing this as much as I hope you guys enjoyed reading it. Pray that I may find the drive to do that sequel I plan. Tentative title A Can of Beer??? ^-^ 


	15. chapter 14

A/N: If I was sorry for chapter 13's delay, then I am kneeling on both knees and begging all of you for chapter 14's tardiness. I had 'stuff' going on, and it was just a few weeks back that I realized that I actually had a pending fic in existence. More noted below about probably spin-offs, sequels, epilogues and such. But for now, enjoy the last chapter of A Cup Of Tea!!! ^_^V  
  
Chapter 14  
  
Mikagami walked (more like sashayed his way, as a hawk-eyed first-year commented) towards the faculty room with his ever-present aura of authority and unruffled poise, which matched his equally unruffled features.   
  
But the calm, imposing exterior defined by the decided glint in his eyes and the thin line drawn on his fine mouth contrasted with the muddle of thoughts, and dare he say emotions, that plagued him since yesterday.  
  
Fuuko left immediately after breakfast, but not without pilfering a few waffles to munch on the way home. Still donning his old shirt and pants (and he knew he'd never see that pair again) with her kimono on a paper bag, she flashed him the biggest of grins, thanked him for being an above mediocre host and flounced off in the bright Sunday morning…  
  
Of course, she also kissed him on the cheek. But not that it mattered anyway…  
  
Yes, it did not matter. How her unbelievably soft lips made contact with his cheek. How he sucked his breath, refusing to be intoxicated with her tangy yet oddly alluring scent, but failing miserably that he had to hold on to the railing of the porch to keep his balance…  
  
And after that, she was gone.  
  
But he didn't care. Why should he? He never cared. There is no reason to start caring all of a sudden. In fact, he should be glad. He had finished his essay. He will pass it now. He will get a good grade for it, come in top of his class, heck, the top of the year even, as it has always been. He will graduate with top honors, get into a good college and a high-paying job…  
  
Yet no matter how much he changed that outlined map of his life, everything he did now seemed… worthless. He could do those things easily. Just as easily as he could snap his fingers, or make girls swoon (which he did even without bothering). There must be something more to this.   
  
IBut just what is left for man when he has not his pride to live for? True, the said political change, environmental transition, fashion trends, cellphone models, digital junk, pop icons expand the meaning of what he thinks as his life, as well as much more.../I  
  
And he was quite sure there was something more to what transpired over the weekend.  
  
But again, he wouldn't bother. It was over anyway.  
  
"Ah, Mikagami-kun, you've finally finished your essay, I see," Ms. Takuno greeted. He merely nodded his head and handed the paper over. She accepted it with a warm smile and prodded on. "So did you have a good time with your friend over the weekend?"  
  
If he were only brought up without manners, he'd stuff the essay down her throat. Can't she bloody see that he didn't want to talk about it?!  
  
But he had to. It was in his job description as the most eligible bachelor of their campus, or so they say.   
  
"I had a fairly nice time," he answered. And that was the end of it. The end of it all.  
  
IYet surely, there must be something else that man needs to secure, something other than pride. For man, in the most general sense there is, has already conquered the valleys of this theoretical world. And with this boon of pride already at hand, he must be searching now for an even greater challenge, for an even greater power to chain his life.../I  
  
Thankfully, Ms. Takuno noticed his inclination to not say anything at all. Took her that long, he huffed to himself. Instead, she ran her bespectacled eyes through the essay, and much to his chagrin, a small playful smile tugged on her lips as she lingered on the last few words of the essay.  
  
"Fairly nice, Mikagami-kun?" she asked in an amused voice.  
  
Mikagami allowed a ghost of a smile to grace his calm features before answering once again. "Yes, fairly nice."  
  
IThis reaction is to be expected from a being who is wholly dependent on almost anything he deems valuable./I  
  
Monday afternoon found him sitting there again. In the same deli wherein students happily rejoiced the end of a schoolday. It was also the exact same place he sat down on 3 days ago, pondering the course of action to take regarding his dilemma.  
  
Apparently this corner seat was now turning into his favorite brooding spot given the high activity of his brain at the moment.   
  
As per usual, in accordance to the way thing were, Team Hokage also sat at their usual place, doing all thing typical, again in accordance to the way things were. Recca was sitting snugly beside his beloved Yanagi, offering her a sundae that contained a ridiculous amount of chocolate syrup. Always one for healty and non-diabetis inducing eating, the healer smiled and gently pushed the sinful dessert away. In direct contrast to Yanagi's careful eating habits, Domon grabbed the said sinful dessert much to Recca's dismay and demanded the larger man to return the half-eaten sundae that rightfully belongs to his Hime. Recca and Domon's upcoming battle of brawn aside, as well as Yanagi's muffled giggles, a tiny smile played on Fuuko's mouth before it disappeared behind a cup of tea...  
  
...And that jolted out Tokiya of his reverie. That was most definitely not in accordance to the way things were supposed to be.  
  
IMan depends on the concreteness and value of food, money, shelter, clothing; on the ideals of politics, art, music, fashion, religion; and much more on the complexities of pride. And more so on love./I  
  
Fuuko Kirisawa shouldn't be sitting there demurely drinking tea of all things. She should be fighting for her rights over the same sundae Recca and Domon where brawling over.   
  
Perhaps he wasn't the only one feeling out of it today. Scratch that. Somehow his gut feel states that he would be feeling 'out of it' not only today, but for quite a long time.  
  
IIf there is one thing that we can't all have, it's love. And the proudest of the proud can very well be those who have discovered this well-kept treasure. I assume that they have all the right to pamper their egos, for love although is something that is just as constant as the air we breathe, it is also as elusive to catch./I  
  
It would be probably many years later that Tokiya would wonder about how a force mayhap stronger than Jupiter's gravity pulled his thougts as well as his sight to that of one Fuuko Kirisawa. And Fuuko could ask that same question as well, but at that moment, all that mattered to them was the fact that the primary ground of their current aura was sitting not more than 12 feet away.  
  
The setback in Tokiya's demeanor may not be that obvious to others for the reason that he always acted like a 'cold bastard' regardless of his state of mind. But things are different for Fuuko. A change in her personality can be easily percepted for two primary reasons. Her extroverted personality borders on the extreme, that any decline in her Myers-Briggs scale would immediately be apparent. And if perhaps the change is marked by subtlety, it would still be noticed by that of her closest friend...  
  
And that is what Yanagi Sakoshita is doing right now. Amidst the cackle and hubbub that Domon and Recca are currently causing, the healers attention drifted to the wind-wielders calm stature as she sipped her Earl Grey tea in a thoughtful manner.   
  
The fact that she ordered tea in place of her usual strawberry milkshake surprised her, as well was the fact that this food shop that caters to hormonal teenagers actually served tea at all. She never recalled Fuuko drinking tea before, so it must be a recent development.  
  
She continued to scrutinize her friend's disposition and found her to be staring at something intently. Said 'something' turned out to be Tokiya Mikagami who was staring back with equal fervor.   
  
iBut sadly, it is something that not all can grasp to enjoy and revel in fully. Thus giving the branded unfortunate ones more reason to inflate their respective egos as a sort of retreat from the harsh reality that they cannot have that one thing that they crave for. Yet it is the same pride that hinders them from realizing the utter simplicity of this feeling. It is this same pride that turns something as simplistic as love into an entangling mass of a jigsaw puzzle that would take eternity to solve./i  
  
Yanagi knew that look. It was one that she has been on the receiving ends of courtesy of her boyfriend who was now in the need of perhaps a tad more healing spells after his little battle for Sundae Supremacy was over. And in one of her rare moments, she herself had thrown the same look at Recca, and it took all that the control that the ninja could muster to stop himself from keeling over to her whims in an instant. She honestly hoped that if she did that right now, her self-proclaimed protector would cease the idiotic display of machismo so she could finally enjoy her apple pie in peace.  
  
iThus it has been, and it shall always be. A sad reality. A vicious cycle. A perfect picture of life./i  
  
Apparently, Fuuko wasn't enjoying the dual performance as well. Rolling her eyes in exasperation and flashing Yanagi a half-hearted smile as if to say 'See what you got yourself stuck with?', the purple-haired girl stood up, cup of tea on one hand and platter of biscuits on the other, and headed to where Tokiya Mikagami was perched.  
  
"Hey."  
  
She was responded by a casually raised eyebrow.  
  
"Things were getting really irritating back there. It's a miracle I got away syrup-free. Yanagi's uniform wasn't so lucky."  
  
Tokiya merely nodded, leaned back on his chair and took 3 long gulps from his own cup. Much to his chagrin, the tea was still scalding hot and his faced turned into an uncharacteristic grimace that warranted a laugh from the girl before him. He flashed a scowl at her but that only increased the girl's laughter.  
  
Eventually, Fuuko's mirth died down, but a playful smile was still present. "Why are you being so difficult again?"  
  
"I'm always difficult."  
  
"Ah, so he speaks!"  
  
Tokiya rolled his eyes at the silly comeback and took a more careful sip of his tea. "Just what the heck are you doing here, Fuuko?"  
  
She felt her breath hitch when she heard her given name being spoken by the Ensui master. Even if this wasn't the first time Mikagami has said her name, there was something distinctly different about it. She never realized that the word 'Fuuko' could sounds so... beautiful.   
  
Or maybe it was just her. One could never eat too much salted biscuits and still retain a properly functioning brain. All that MSG has to go somewhere, right?  
  
"Er, I came to see if you like me..."  
  
Mikagami's cheeks tinged pink.  
  
Oh for the love of all things unsalted!!! I can't believe I said that!!! She could feel that familiar creepy warmth surfacing to her cheeks. Damn MSG to the 7th circle of hell!!!  
  
"What I meant was," she remedied instantly. "If YOU would LIKE for ME to, er... Um, if I can read your essay. You know, the one that I helped you with. Or rather, didn't help you with 'coz I was to busy eating your food. You cook really well, did you know that? You're not a half-bad person when you think about it. It's just that you're the ultimate snob at times and it's just so hard for people to deal with you..."  
  
She's rambling, he realized. A very characteristic trait of one Fuuko Kirisawa when she's embarrassed. Of course, psychology's dictations doesn't elude him as well. He was quite aware about the Freudian Slip phenomena. It appears that Kirisawa's MSG-filled brain was dishing out more slips than what the nervously prattling girl would want to reveal.  
  
He's also finding this very adorable, he realized. A very uncharacteristic trait of one Tokiya Mikagami.  
  
"Kirisawa... Fuuko," he interrupted her.  
  
Fuuko stopped mid-prattle, seemingly relieved that her tirade has been cut short.  
  
"You talk too much," he said with a wry face.  
  
"Took you long enough to notice!" the girl harrumphed.  
  
Tokiya leaned forward the table. "Yes, how horribly ignorant of me. Wasn't it just yesterday that you were stuffing my ears with your incessant talking?"  
  
Fuuko leaned forward as well in acceptance of the challenge. "Yep, that was yesterday all right," she smirked. "What I find interesting though is this sudden lapse of your memory. Perhaps the almighty Tokiya Mikagami isn't perfect after all..."  
  
Surprising them both, Tokiya's mouth quirked for more than the usual fraction of a second. "No, I guess he isn't..."  
  
"That's good. Nice to know he's human after all."  
  
iBut perhaps someday, man will finally be able to break free from the shackles that bind his soul and grasp this unfound reality for himself./i  
  
They were having a moment. It's the experience of having a sudden rush of warm emotions that tends to overpower the senses causing all rational thought to become useless, hence rendering the involved parties unable to express this great turning point of their lives through words.  
  
The cacophonous medley of laughter, yelling and idle talk filled the small eatery. Across from the room Reeca and Domon were currently fighting over sprinkles vs marshmallows respectively, with both of them gathering a fair share of onlookers. Yanagi, who had not moved an inch from her seat was now happily delighting in the heavily-syruped sundae that the two were originally fighting about.   
  
It really wasn't the most ideal place for such a moment, but Fuuko and Tokiya could care less. Until the sticky brown goop of chocolate syrup landed on the side of Fuuko's uniform. Apparently the argument has turned into a full-blown food fight.  
  
"Well," Fuuko sighed resignedly. "I guess it was bound to happen..."  
  
"Yes, it was," Mikagami commented. "From the very beginning I think."  
  
Fuuko flashed him a tiny grin and raised an eyebrow. "You think so?"  
  
"I know so," was the firm reply.  
  
iPerhaps someday, man will finally let go of his misconstrued notion of pride as the one thing that could sustain him, and accept that it is love of the truest and the purest that will raise him up from the belittling standards of society and give him reason to be truly proud of himself./i  
  
"Perhaps you should drop by the house to freshen up a little," he offered, and then chuckled. "I think I've got some clothes I've grown out of to offer to Fuuko Kirisawa's charity box." He stood up and extended a hand to her.  
  
The girl stuck his tongue out, but then clasped her hand firmly against his. "I'd love to."  
  
THE END  
  
Woot! It's finally over! Huge thanks to all of you guys who've read, esp. those of you who've read AND reviewed. My biggest hearts goes of course to my inspiration, Nixxie and Ryan, the original 'Fuuko and Tokiya' whom I've patterened this fic after. All the best in your relationship!!!  
  
As for epilogues, sequels, spin-offs and such, well, we'll see... ^__^v Again, thank you very much for supporting A Cup of Tea!! 


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